with even the darkest night comes a new dawn
by avatargia
Summary: Aang recieves a vision of the future during the storm in which he freezes himself and is presented with a choice: Envoke the Avatar State and remain frozen for one hundred years or drown and reincarnate so the next Avatar can save what remains of his people post-genocide. The choice is not easy. It takes a full cycle to bring the world back to peace.
1. Book One: Air

**Synopsis:** Aang recieves a vision of the future during the storm in which he freezes himself and is presented with a choice: Envoke the Avatar State and remain frozen for one hundred years or drown and reincarnate so the next Avatar can save what remains of his people post-genocide. The choice is not easy. It takes a full cycle to bring the world back to peace.

**Author's Note: **So I literally haven't written fanfiction since I was thirteen, fourteen? But, I rewatched Avatar: The Last Airbender and watched The Legend of Korra for the first time this last year and, man, let me just tell you how hard those shows hit. I am a huge Korra fan. (I know, I know, it has it's flaws writing-wise, but I _really_ just love Korra.) I also love learning about new or different Avatars. And I got to thinking, what if Aang had died in the storm? And how different would the world be? Also, swampbenders. I love them. Leave your thoughts.

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**BOOK ONE: AIR  
**_AVATAR AANG_

_We will be together for all of your lifetimes._

**i.**

Aang leaves the Southern Air Temple filled with anger and guilt. Angry because Gyatso would _let them take him from his home_ and guilty because anger was not something airbenders were ever supposed to indulge.

Appa's fur grounds him. It's soft and coarse beneath his crossed legs and a comforting source of heat as he flies closer to the South Pole.

He's too consumed with his thoughts to notice the storm approaching. Too consumed by possibilities and responsibilities. He's just mastered airbending. Monk Gyatso held his hand as they tattooed his skin blue and wiped the stray tear he'd shed when they reached his forehead and the pain grew unbearable. Now they expect him to master three more elements. What kind of pain would that bring? How would he manage it without his friend to help him?

Aang doesn't expect he'll be a good Avatar. What kind of Avatar runs away from home? Anger twists through him like creeping crystal and he dances around the edge of it as he entertains where he'll go so that the monks never find him.

He's close to the Southern Water Tribe. He could hide there and find a master to teach him how to waterbend. He'd always wanted to go penguin sledding and the South Pole was full of otter penguins. Or he could fly all the way to the Northern Water Tribe and see the dancing aurora lights in the sky and eat seaweed noodles until he puked.

_With a giant blue arrow on your head?_

Even if he replaced his orange robes with a traditional parka and snow boots, his arrow would be a dead giveaway. Not even his hair would cover it completely if he grew it out. And no one with airbending tattoos and a flying bison could learn waterbending without being the Avatar. Word would travel and the monks would drag him to some hidden corner of the world and stomp out everything that made him Aang and fill him with other Avatars.

Yangchen's resilience. Kyoshi's strength. Roku's compassion. Definitely not Kuruk's recklessness but maybe his charisma or loyalty. They were all accomplished Avatars, but he doesn't want to be Yangchen or Kuruk. He wants to be Aang. He wants to choose his own path and make his own choices. The monks want to take that–_and Gyatso_–from him.

The rain pulls him from his mind. Appa moans below him when a streak of lightning splits the sky too close for comfort.

"Hang on, boy," he whispers and the anger in his heart is replaced with fear. He's never seen a storm so fierce.

It's too late to turn around so Aang guides Appa as best he can through the growing winds. He tries to shift the storm away from them with swats from his glider and swirling movements of his arms but the storm is as stubborn as a badgermole and ten times as strong.

Another clap of thunder and a bolt of lightning nearly strikes Appa in the side. His friend groans and dips to avoid the blow. Only they're much lower than Aang thought and the waves are much higher than they should be.

Water covers his head. It's a shock and not even his airbending can keep him warm. The water burns his eyes and it seeps through his skin into his bones.

He's floating. Only the tips of his toes can feel Appa but he seems so distant.

Airbending doesn't help him much underwater. The current is too strong and he's too slow to make much of a difference.

Aang had never been able to really bend anything besides air. The monks had used toys to determine he was the Avatar, not a test of the elements, but he should be able to bend water now, when his life depends on it.

He draws knowledge from a scroll he read in the air temple library. It'd been a southern bending style scroll and he twists in an attempt to maneuver himself in a spout that would push him above the waves. He shoots upward, his ascent jerky, and his head pokes above the surface.

Air rushes his lungs and he gasps, floundering, before he sucks in another breath and a wave shoves him back down.

There's no way he can bend his way out of this. Not by himself. Not at twelve years old.

_Not unless—_

A white glow bleeds into the edges of his vision. It chases away the cold in his veins and suddenly Appa is beneath him, sturdy and strong.

He places his fists together and crosses his legs. An air bubble grows around him, expanding.

The glow has nearly overtaken all of his vision when he feels a grip on his shoulder.

_"Come."_

Aang opens his eyes with a sharp inhale. The scent of salt and rain is gone, replaced with the tangy, salty smell that oddly reminds him of the way the baby bison smelled when they picked their lifelong friend. He's surrounded by barren trees and a gray sky. His feet sink into dark mud.

"Aang."

The young boy turns. Behind him, a man in deep red Fire Nation robes looks down at him. His hair is snow white and his eyes are a deep amber. Aang has never seen this man in his life, but he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt who it is.

Placing one fist on a flat palm, Aang bows.

"Avatar Roku."

The older avatar bows in return. For a moment, Aang forgets that he was drowning in the South Sea seconds ago.

"Where am I?"

"You are in the Spirit World. I brought you here so that we might speak."

Aang nods but he doesn't quite understand. What is so important Roku would pull him from the Avatar State into the Spirit World?

"I don't have much time to explain. Your body is still in danger in the physical world but you need to know the effects your decision will have. The Avatar State is a defensive mechanism designed to endow you with the strength and knowledge of all your past lives." Roku pauses. "When an Avatar is untrained, the Avatar State can be brought on when the Avatar is distraught or in danger."

"Yes, Avatar Roku. I was–I was using the Avatar State in the physical world. I was drowning. I couldn't bend my way out by myself."

Roku nods slowly. "If you allow the Avatar State to overcome you, you will freeze yourself in the water."

Aang frowns. "Oh. How will I get out?"

"Someone will have to discover you."

"How long will that take?" he asks slowly.

"It'll be best if I show you."

Roku steps forward. He raises his hand, places his thumb on the boy's forehead, and Aang _sees_.

It'll take one hundred years before he's found. A girl–her eyes are blue, bluer than any sky or ocean he's ever seen, and they make his heart ache–and her brother find him. They tell him of a Fire Nation invasion. The slaughter of his people. He learns that he ran away hours before the genocide. If he freezes in the iceberg, he will be oblivious as Gyatso is forced to use his bending violently. As the boys he was raised with are cut down like trees. He sees a blind girl who listens and waits. She's his earthbending teacher. _The greatest earthbender in the world!_ A boy with a scarred cheek who teaches him firebending and learns from the original masters with him. He sees the lion turtle, another comet, and he sees a marriage and three children and a magnificent city.

Aang steps away from Roku's hand. The vision fades. He clings to the shade of the girl's eyes, but it slips like sand through his fingers. He finds himself missing something he's never seen, someone he's never met, someone who isn't even born.

The young airbender's head dips. "I understand," he says. "If I use the Avatar State, I won't be able to help my people and the world will be unbalanced for the next one hundred years. But…"

"If you deny it, your soul will fade and the next Avatar will be born."

Aang's throat feels tight._ It's not fair,_ he thinks. _I want to do things. I want to meet the girl with blue eyes. I want to see Gyatso again._

His hands flex at his sides. Above all else, he wants to go home.

Then he realizes that home–with the airy hallways filled with the scent of just-baked fruit pies and chirping lemurs–is burning now. His people are fighting for their lives. Most will die. Some will live. Those who do will run and hide and live what's left of their lives in the darkest corners of the world, terrified that one day the Fire Lord will return and finish what he'd started.

And he is choosing whether his single life is worth the price it will cost to save it.

He knows his answer, even as Roku begins to speak again.

"If you use the Avatar State, you will have the strength of all the Avatars that came before you. But you also have our knowledge. As the Avatar, you needed to understand the implications of this choice. It is yours and yours alone, but we will stand with you no matter the choice." Roku's voice is soft and wise and Aang wishes he could wrap himself in it and stay here, alive, in the Spirit World forever.

"I understand, Avatar Roku."

Aang raises his head. His eyes burn. Roku looks at him with eyes so sad that it threatens to swallow Aang whole. Is Roku sad because Aang is? Where do the other Avatars end and he begins?

It doesn't matter.

"Can you take me back?"

"Of course." Roku raises his hand again. Before it touches the boy's shoulder, he stops. "We will be with you until the end."

The water and the ice flood back. His body stays warm.

Aang pushes the light away and curls his fingers in Appa's wet fur. His bison has gone still beneath him.

His chest burns and aches. He's an airbender trapped in an endless ocean, surrounded by more water than he could possibly fathom.

_I don't want to go,_ he thinks.

He can feel hands all around him, hundreds of Avatars arriving to guide him to the Spirit World.

In the end, he is not alone.

**ii.**

The statues in the temples flare, filled with a burst of light. Firebenders across the world pause to watch the display, to watch the light spill from the towers that's brighter than any flame they could create with the comet's power.

They stop. Their generals told them what would happen when the Avatar died. Some feel joy. Others feel darkness swallow their heart.

Monk Gyatso's hands fall from their defensive pose when he sees the tower light up. His blood runs cold. He'd had hope that Aang had made it to safety, that he'd be able to stop Sozin—

He'd hoped too much. A soldier charges him with a stream of fire. There's so much that Gyatso is sure the world is burning.

He has nothing left to lose.

Gyatso inhales through his nose, closes his eyes, pushes out and seeks out the air in their bodies.

If he is to die and his Avatar–_his son_–must die, then so would they.

Twenty firebenders to press forward. Even he is not strong enough to defeat them all.

His only hope now is that he and Aang are reunited in the Spirit World.

**iii.**

Somewhere is the Foggy Swamp, a baby cries.

A mother coos at her newborn. She looks to her husband, whose eyes are wide with wonder as he looks at his daughter. She's their firstborn and the most magical thing he's ever seen.

"She's beautiful," he says. His voice catches on the last syllable.

The mother nods in agreement and tucks her pointer finger under her baby's chin. Big green eyes stare up her.

"Welcome home, Kei."

* * *

_tbc._


	2. Book Two, Part I: Water

**Synopsis:** Aang recieves a vision of the future during the storm in which he freezes himself and is presented with a choice: Envoke the Avatar State and remain frozen for one hundred years or drown and reincarnate so the next Avatar can save what remains of his people post-genocide. The choice is not easy. It takes a full cycle to bring the world to back peace.

**Author's Note:** Welp. This second installment kicked my ass. I've concluded that this will _not_ be a four shot. It's going to take a lot more than that to finish this. I thought I could make Kei's story one giant chapter but this here alone is nearly 8,000 words and I'm only about half-way through with it. I really tried to hone in on creating a unique personality/voice seperate from Aang and Korra. While I love Korra, I thought that the Hundred Year War and Aang's subsequent actions had a huge impact as her journey as the Avatar and she just wouldn't work well in the world I'm setting up in this fic.

_[In answer to a few questions left in the comments of the last chapter, there are three Water Tribes in the ATLA universe: the Southern Tribe, the Northern Tribe, and the Foggy Swamp Tribe. The swamp tribe is introduced in season two, episode four, where its revealed that at some point long before the One Hundred Year War, a group of waterbenders immigrated to the swamp and made it their home. They refer to the polar tribes as their "kin" but, as seen with Katara's reaction, the polar tribes are unfamilar with the swamp tribe. This, along with the fact that I think swampbenders are greatly underrated, has a lot to do with why I chose the Foggy Swamp as Kei's place of origin. Also, how does Kei master airbending? That is for me know and for you to find out ;) I've had to do a lot of rewatching and rereading of the comics and the Avatar Wiki page to get my facts straight so hopefully the explaination is adequate.]_

* * *

**BOOK TWO: WATER  
****PART I  
**_AVATAR KEI_

_Some friendships (and grudges, too) are so strong, they can even transcend lifetimes._

**i.**

It's in the small details, the little things, that the tribe knows long before Kei has even grown tall enough to climb the first branches of the giant banyan-grove tree.

They see it in the way Kei bends mud–too sturdy, too strong, too solid to just be waterbending. And sometimes when Kei is angry or sad, a strong wind finds its way into swamp, past the leaves and trees and still waters.

They see it in the way Kei speaks of her spirit friends. One old man with a dragon-like beard and a boy just a few suns older than her with funny blue tattoos all over his body.

They see it in the strange little snake Kei finds when she runs away and tries to climb the First Tree alone. The waterbender either doesn't notice or doesn't care that it's grown from half the size of her forearm to something longer and stronger than her whole body. She calls the snake Ryuu and the tribe watches its black whiskers twitch with affection each time she hefts the creatures across her shoulders.

Kei does not know who she is–but the tribe does and so does the tree.

When Kei has only been thirteen for several nights, the tree calls an earthbender to her.

It's a man. He's much older than her but not near as old as her papa, and his eyes–green, but not the same green as the swamp people–are wild and wide.

She finds him wrestling Uncle Bo's catgator.

Kei bends her knees, sinks into the swamp, and separates the two in her mix of water and air that she doesn't even recognize as strange. Then she searches for the vines in the water and uses them to pull the stranger to a tree. Ryuu has to adjust himself on her body but Kei doesn't notice; Ryuu is as much a part of her as her heart and lungs and she's used to bending with him on her body. The vines pull tight around the stranger's wrists and waist.

He doesn't fight back.

Kei frowns. Her hands are still raised defensively. "Who are you and why are you here?"

The stranger looks like he's seen a ghost. Maybe he has. The swamp is known to show people their past, especially the most painful moments. It only shows her the dragon-beard man and the tattooed boy.

"Something called me here," he says. He tugs experimentally on the vine holding his right arm in place. Kei tightens it and her eyes narrow.

Strangers are bad for the swamp. Ma and Pa told her so. Not since the Fire Lord started looking for the Avatar in the Water Tribes.

_"He don't know we live here,"_ Ma said. _"And if he don't know we live here, he can't come lookin' for the Avatar."_

_Avatar,_ Kei thinks. _Wonder what that'd be like._

She doesn't even think about the wind and the water or the way the earth slides under her feet. You have to be old to be the Avatar and Kei certainly isn't old.

"The tree don't call outsiders here no more. It's dangerous."

Ryuu slithers down her leg into the water at calf-height. He's a good swimmer and Kei snorts with pride as he shoots across the surface and latches onto the stranger's leg. He yelps–startled, not scared–and tries to shake Ryuu off but Kei straps his legs to the tree with another set of vines.

Kei laughs as Ryuu settles on the stranger's shoulder and stares at him. Ryuu, like the swamp, doesn't like strangers.

"It was a vision," the man says, his eyes flickering to the serpent on his shoulder. He sounds oddly relaxed for a trapped man with a snake on his body. "I saw Aang, the last Avatar. He told me the new Avatar needed an earthbending teacher, and we were friends when he was young."

"There isn't an Avatar in the swamps."

The stranger looks at her and blinks several times, like he can't see her quite right. Then an understanding dawns on his tan face and he grins big and wide. "Well, this is where he sent me," he challenges.

Kei cocks her head at the man. She can't let him go because then her ma would be mad. But she's not sure her ma would like her leading him straight to their village either.

She huffs. Only one other thing to do.

Kei slides across the water and hops up the tree she's pinned the man to. She can hear him talking to her, but she isn't listening. No, her eyes are closed and her hand is on the tree. She's looking, looking for her ma and pa and maybe even Uncle Bo so she can tell him she found his catgator.

It takes a minute but she finds them all sitting at the base of the great banyan-grove tree. She wills them to see her, see the stranger, and she pulls her hand away when a feeling, not an emotion or pain of some kind, just a feeling, washes over her like midsummer rains.

Kei hops back down. Ryuu is still on the stranger's shoulder. With her ma and pa and uncle on the way, she doesn't have to worry about what to do with the stranger.

She tries to stay quiet and scare him with a serious face and crossed arms, but she's only thirteen and curiosity gets the better of her.

"Where do you come from?" she asks, swinging from a low-hanging branch by the stranger's face.

"I live in a city called Omashu."

Kei ponders this. "Does it have a big, great tree like here?"

"No, but it does have pretty cool slides. Some people use them for mail. I just like to use them as slides."

"I don't think I'd like it there. I like the tree."

The man shrugs. "Easy to say when you've never left here."

Kei gasps. She grips a vine and swings in front of him, hanging there like a baby hog monkey.

"How do you know I ain't ever left?"

His eyes flicker from side to side. Ryuu no longer bothers him and the snake has curled contentedly into his neck.

"Intuition?"

"I don't know that word."

"It means I just felt it in my bones."

"Oh! Like I do with the tree!"

The waterbender decides she likes this stranger. She can feel the energy in him the same way she can feel the energy rippling through the swamp, and she likes what she feels. It's safe and sound but there's something fun and familiar about it that sets Kei's soul at ease.

"My name is Kei," she says finally.

The man's hand moves by his side, but it's still pinned. He moved his shoulders and looks back at her with those unfamilar-familar eyes.

"My name is Bumi."

**ii.**

The village leaders tell Kei of a vision the First Tree showed them.

A boy with arrow tattoos drowning in the South Sea. The death of a thousand airbenders. An evil, evil man with hot coals for eyes and a star so close and so bright that the smallest flame grew into a great inferno.

"A great spirit called Raava lives in you, Kei," says Elder Renshu. He sits with his long, skinny legs crossed and a banyan leaf hat covers half his face in shadow. "The First Tree showed us who you are and told us what we had to do keep you safe until you were old enough to leave. You are the Avatar."

"Raava?" she echoes. She's never heard of a spirit called Raava, but it rings through her like she's a cave, filling her with sound and surety.

"A light spirit," says Elder Asha, "that's responsible for peace and order."

Kei looks at her chest. "I have light inside me?"

Renshu chuckles. "Something like that."

Bumi sits to the side by her ma and pa. Since untying him from the vines, Bumi hasn't said a single word. Kei looks to him and he smiles at her, crooked with a gap between his two front teeth. Something flashes behind her eyes–a little boy, with wild brown hair and a green headband. Laughter rings in her ears.

"I'm really the Avatar?" asks Kei.

The elders nod.

"Is Bumi going to train me?"

Renshu and Asha look to one another and then to the earthbender who is quietly sipping from a bowl of water.

They haven't had a stranger wander so far into their swamps in nearly thirteen years. When the tree told them of little Kei's destiny, it promised the girl protection for as long as it could. Now, it seems the tree's blessing has worn thin and they nor danger will soon come looking for Kei.

"Yes," says Renshu. "It seems he is."

**iii.**

Kei learns earthbending easily enough. Bumi guides her through stances and technique and pushes her until she doesn't want to bend another rock ever again in her life.

A year passes. Kei grows stronger. Outsiders begin to wander further into the swamp.

Kei overhears her mama and papa one night. She's fourteen now and every bit as curious as the year before.

"Bumi made a trip into Gaoling for information. People are saying Fire Lord Sozin's beginning to round up southern waterbenders and has attacked the north," says Ma. Kei notices that her voice is sad and low. She wants to hug her Ma but then she won't hear the rest of what she has to say.

"They're getting desperate," Pa says in a hushed voice. "They know the Avatar isn't a baby anymore. And Sozin is getting old. He knows he doesn't have much time left before his heir takes the throne."

"She's just a child, Nobuo. His son is even worse than his father. You've heard the stories. How can we expect her to do this? There's no way she'll be strong enough–" Ma breaks off in a sob. Kei's heart twists and she decides she's heard more than she wanted to hear.

The next morning, she arrives at her training grounds long before Bumi arrives. It's a square-shaped plateau of earth that her teacher ripped out of the swamp so she could learn to seperate the feeling of water and earth. (Kei thinks it's weird not to have mud caked in her bare toes when she bends, but Bumi is the master so who is she to argue.) Her feet slide shoulder width apart and her arms raise. She tells herself she is an immovable, unstoppable force. She's a mountain and nothing–not even an ugly, old Fire Lord–can move her.

Kei jumps, kicking a large rock towards the trunk of a nearby tree. It doesn't quite reach it. There's not enough power behind the move. She tries thrusting her first forward in a sharp jab to give the rock extra momentum, but her reach is still unreliable.

The rock lands in a puddle of water with a disheartening splash. She sighs and readjusts her stance. Somewhere behind her, the dragon-beard man tells her to sink deeper into her feet and square off her shoulders.

_Breathe into the move to give it power and out when you release,_ the bearded man says.

_You're a lot better at this than I would've ever been,_ the tattooed boy says. He's always encouraging her.

Kei nods. She tries again.

This time, the rock blows a hole straight through the center of the trunk.

**iv.**

Four months later, Bumi declares he's taught the young Avatar all he knows. And while mastery of two elements is something to celebrate, the course of action that comes next is a troubling one.

Kei must learn fire and air, but both are short-handed in the field of teachers.

The elders, her parents, and Sifu Bumi discuss Kei's training for several days. Eventually, they come to the inevitable conclusion: Kei must leave the Foggy Swamp.

Bumi makes one last trip into Gaoling alone and returns with clothes that are scratchy in comparison to the simple wraps Kei has worn her entire life. He also brings a rucksack large enough to curl Ryuu into and a small amount of supplies that should last them until they make it to Ba Sing Se.

Kei isn't supposed to know why they're going to the capital city but from what she's gathered from eavesdropped conversations, Bumi thinks a flower can help. A White Lotus. His father had known about it and told him that if Bumi was ever in trouble, that's what he needed to look for.

How they came to the conclusion that a flower will stop the Fire Lord, Kei isn't sure. But the tree has magic even she doesn't understand so maybe the flower does too.

When she leaves, her ma and pa see her off. Ma's eyes are wet and Pa squeezes her in a bone-crushing grip. Bumi lays a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. When they've disappeared into the labyrinth of trees, set for Ba Sing Se, he makes funny jokes and shows her how to use earthbending just for fun by juggling rocks and spinning them in his hands. He says the last one was something Aang used to do with his airbending when they needed a distraction to get out of trouble.

He almost makes her forget that she's leaving everything she's ever known.

They make it to the edge of the swamp. With a few twists of her hands, she bends the water out of her boots and reaches up to stroke the side of Ryuu's scaly face.

Kei looks over her shoulder one more time and searches the tree line. She hopes to see something–_someone_–familiar peaking out at her, but all she sees is a screeching bird. Her ma and pa are long gone.

"You'll be back before you know it," says Bumi. His voice is light and encouraging but even Kei can sense that something weighs it down.

"You really think so?"

Bumi nods. "Absolutely."

They both know he's lying.

**v.**

Kei discovers that the White Lotus isn't just a flower–it's a group of people and they've been around for a long time.

Unlike the elders of her tribe, they talk to her like she's all grown up. They tell her they've waited a long time for her to reveal herself, that they looked for her but couldn't find her. They listen to her and they include her in their meetings. How should the Avatar continue her training? When will she be ready to confront the Fire Nation? Where will she learn airbending when the Air Nomads have all been murdered or imprisoned?

Kei mostly just listens. The few things she has to say pertain to her training. Yes, she's mastered earthbending. No, she's never learned the northern healing technique. Yes, she's bent air before and, yes, she's talked to her past lives. (In fact, Aang is laughing at your moustache right now.)

The members of the White Lotus fascinate her. Kei has only seen the olive skin and green eyes of the Foggy Swamp Tribe but she's heard enough stories to know the four nations haven't gotten along since early in the dragon-beard man's life. Nationality didn't seem to bother the White Lotus. Fire Nation swapped old war stories with Northern Water Tribe and benders mixed with non-benders all the same.

Kei listens. She learns and waits. This is the kind of world I want to make, she thinks.

The Order of the White Lotus finds her a firebending teacher after a week or two of evaluating her progress but she's far away from their base in Ba Sing Se, located in one of the outer Fire Nation islands. There are concerns about her traveling so far, that she might be caught by the Fire Nation; but Bumi reminds them that they still think the Avatar has been born in the Southern or Northern Tribes. (Kei forgets that the world doesn't know a third tribe lives in the swamp. She considers how different Fire Lord Sozin might be if _he_ had grown up with the First Tree to guide him.)

In the end, Bumi and a waterbender from the Northern Tribe accompany her. The waterbender teaches her how to heal and fine tunes her bending for combat outside of the swamp along the way. Bumi continues to drill her until she's able to bend earth with the simple jut of her chin.

They arrive in a town called Hira'a. It's small and secluded, far away from the capital. Only a few Fire Nation foot soldiers are in town and they spend most of their time in a local bathhouse drinking fire whiskey.

Her firebending teacher lives in a small hut at the base of the mountain that looks over the town. It's sagging to one side with a few koala sheep outside.

Bumi knocks on the front door.

A woman, old like her papa, answers.

Before anyone can make introductions, Kei grins wide. "Rina!" she blurts.

The woman looks down at her. Her eyes are a familiar shade of amber and her cheekbones sit high and proud.

"You must be Kei," says Rina, smiling. "I've been expecting you."

"You're the bearded man's daughter!"

Rina laughs and steps to the side so that they can come in. It's cozy inside with a hearth pressed to one wall, a small eating area and a doorway that leads into another room where Kei thinks she probably keeps her bedroll.

She's still adjusting to the idea of houses with more than one room, houses made out of stones and wood, not leaves and vines.

"Yes, I am Avatar Roku's daughter. The White Lotus told me that you're in need of a firebending teacher. Tea?"

Sifu Bumi and the waterbending master, Himiko, accept the offer gratefully. They sit around a rickety wooden table. Rina pours Kei a cup, too, and sits it down next to her.

With Bumi on one side and Rina on the other, she can feel happiness bursting through her. She feels the same way with Rina as she had with Bumi. Her energy is like a small flame dancing in Kei's palm, big enough to keep her warm and light her path but small enough to keep from burning her.

Kei scoots to the edge of her chair and peers into her cup of tea with thin eyes. Small pieces of leaves have settled at the bottom and it's a pale yellow color. She's never had this drink before. She sniffs it and her nose wrinkles.

The girl notices all three of her teachers are looking at her with humor. Kei feels embarrassed and the tips of her ears, which are thankfully covered by her tangled brown hair, grow warm.

She picks up the cup and sips. She wants to spit it out but manages to swallow her drink and she sets the cup back down.

Maybe her past lives liked it, but Kei was sure she could go the rest of her life without another cup.

Kei pulls her rucksack from her back and pulls Ryuu out. Maybe he'd enjoy a drink.

Ryuu wraps around her arm and his head settles on top of her palm. His forked tongue flicks out and his whiskers wiggle.

"You carry a water serpent with you, Avatar?" asks Rina.

"His name is Ryuu," says Kei. "I don't know what he is. I found him in the swamps. He was sick. I helped him get better and I tried to send him away but he kept coming back. Bumi says every Avatar has an animal guide. I think Ryuu is mine."

"I think so too."

Kei continues to stroke Ryuu's head and hums under her breath. She hasn't been able to simply be since she left home several months ago. With her teachers' energy wrapped around her like a safety blanket, she lets herself think like a girl for just a little bit.

No more bending. No more Fire Lords. No more Avatar duties.

For now, she thinks about her mama and papa and the great banyan-grove tree. She thinks of all of the wonderful (and terrible) things she's seen on her journey. So many new animals and plants and people and cities. She wonders how much more of the world there is to see. Right now, she wants to go to one of the other Water Tribes and see what snow looks like.

Then reality settles in when Rina asks her if she's ever been able to firebend before. Kei scratches the back of her neck and something akin to shame grows in her chest. "I've tried," she says. "I just… can't."

Rina smiles that soft, motherly smile Kei hasn't seen since she left the swamp and shrugs. "That's quite all right. Most Avatars struggle to master the element furthest from their personality. Typically, it's the element opposite their origin so it makes sense you struggle with fire. My father struggled with water the most."

In her mind, she sees a vision of the bearded man. His hair is still a deep brown, pulled into a Fire Nation topknot with the crown on top, and he's wearing a blue parka that swallows him. His waterbending master bends a snake-like drill of water at him that breaks off the portion of the glacier Roku stands on. Roku twists and bends his arms but the water ignores his command and he flies into the water. He emerges, frowning as ice water drips into his eyes.

Kei blinks and her spirit returns to the small hut.

"When can we start?" Kei interrupts Rina as she asks Bumi and Himiko a bout her mastery of water and earth.

"Well, you've just finished a long journey and I'm sure you're tired–"

"I don't want to wait. Can we start tomorrow, Master Rina?"

Bumi interjects. "I'm all for you finishing your Avatar training, squirt, but we just spent almost two months traveling to get here and you spent the entire time training with us. A little rest would do you good."

The young girl in her disappears and something older and wiser takes its place. "I don't have time to rest. Fire Lord Sozin is destroying the Water Tribes. The western coast of the Earth Kingdom is filled with Fire Nation colonies and the entire kingdom itself is full of spies. Even with Sozin so old, the war isn't going to stop when he dies. People say his son, Azulon, is even worse. You treat me like I'm just a regular kid but I'm not. You plan my training and my future without me and you don't tell me all the things I need to know. I have a duty to bring balance to the world."

Her teachers watch her with careful eyes. Behind Rina, the tattooed boy nods at her.

_Are you sure?_ Kei asks

_They need to know_, replies Aang.

"Aang didn't die during the attack on the air temples. He'd ran away just before." Bumi already knows this but she figures if she explains it to her other teachers they'll understand her urgency.

"That's impossible," Himiko exclaims. She's old, older than Rina and Papa, old like the great banyan-grove tree. Lines run through her brown face and around her blue eyes. It makes her look like she's angry all the time but Kei knows that the woman's heart is golden. She's always made sure to sneak Kei an extra serving of sticky rice when they get it and corrects her technique with gentle instruction instead of force.

The Avatar turns and stares at the waterbender. It's not the stare of a sixteen-year-old girl. It is the look of an ancient, powerful soul. "He died in the South Sea. A storm pulled him under the waves. Avatar Roku provided him with a vision so that he could make a fully-informed choice: Use the Avatar State and remain frozen for one hundred years or drown and allow the next Avatar to reincarnate so they could stop the war from destroying the balance of the world for good." Kei paused. "My life shows the sacrifice he made. I'm not going to waste the extra time he's given me resting."

**vi.**

Kei arrives at Rina's hut at dawn. Her master says firebenders draw power from the sun the same way waterbenders draw power from the moon; she says the rising sun will help her find the fire in her soul.

Rina sips from another cup of tea as she instructs Kei how to breathe and meditate in the morning sun.

"Breathe in through your nose and release through your mouth. Your breath becomes energy within your body and is released in the form of fire. Without proper breath, there cannot be fire."

Kei hums. "Yes, Sifu Rina."

They spend the day breathing and basking in the sun. Kei finds that she likes the feeling of it on her skin. In the swamp, only a few choice pieces peak through the canopy and she hasn't had the time to sit and enjoy the feeling of it while traveling. It turns her skin dark and lightens pieces of her dark hair. If Ma and Pa saw her, she doubts they'd recognize her. (She's also grown significantly taller and her body is corded with muscles that are only strengthening by the day. When she looks at her reflection, she feels so sure and strong about the person she's becoming.)

Later, when the sun finally begins to sink into the horizon, Rina releases her from her tutelage.

"Be here tomorrow," she says, "at sunrise."

Kei bows and makes the trip back into town where Bumi and Himiko have secured a hut for the duration of her training. It's small with only two rooms but Himiko makes it cozy and she and Bumi always have food ready for her when she comes home.

Himiko feeds her a bowl of sticky rice and fish. Kei eats, drinks what water remains in her flask, and falls asleep promptly on her bed roll.

All too soon, a pigster crows at dawn. Kei rises from her bed roll, shrugs on her new Fire Nation clothes–a sleeveless red top that crawls up her neck, baggy brown pants with a belt with the Fire Nation insignia, and gloves that reached just below her elbow, hooking on her middle finger and leaving her palm bare–and makes her way to Rina's hut.

She does this for what feels like years but must only be a week or two. The strange, controlled way Rina makes her breathe soon becomes natural and slowly a small speck of light begins to emerge in her. When she's sitting in the sun with her eyes closed, her body folded into the Lotus position, she can feel it pulsing in her like a tiny heartbeat. She coaxes it, feeds it, encourages it with each breath.

Finally, when Kei arrives early in the morning after several weeks of patient breathing, Rina says, "Come with me. We aren't practicing your breathing today."

Rina leads her to a path in the forest of bamboo behind her hut. It climbs up the mountain, soft in some spots and so harsh in others that Kei wishes she could use her earthbending to carry herself to wherever Rina is leading her.

It's midmorning when they reach their destination. Kei concludes it's a training area. It's a large open circle with rocks defining the border of the ring. There are scorch marks in the dirt and on the rocks and there are a few burned trees nearby.

"Am I going to firebend today?"

Rina shrugs off the wrapping over her deep red tunic. "That is entirely up to you, Avatar."

Her master begins to lead her through forms that flow into one another and look nothing like the sharp, angry movements she's seen from the firebenders on the road. Rina's firebending reminds her of waterbending in the way it constantly changes, moves, adapts to the commands Rina provides.

Rina finishes a set and intructs Kei to follow her movements. Excitement bubbles in her. _This is it,_ she thinks._ I'm finally going to do it._

One fist follows the other and Rina stops her several times to correct her footwork. As they continue moving, Kei understands why she spent so long just breathing. Each punch, each kick, demands her breath and by the time lunch arrives she's covered in sweat, gasping for air. She hasn't created even so much as a small spark which frustrates her to no end but Rina assures her that it's alright. It took Roku months to even learn how the ocean pushes and pulls.

Aang assures her too and Kei has to hide her smile on the back of her fist as the boy cheers her on. She can never see him but his voice flickers in and out of her mind like a second conscious.

On her seventh week in Hira'a, she bends her first flame. Kei shouts and juggles the small thing around her body before it sputters out.

"Rina! Sifu Rina! Did you see it? I did it!"

Her teacher is laughing full belly laughs that shake her entire body as she watches her student thrust her fist out and another small flame fights its way into existence. With the fire in her hands now, she moves through the sets Rina taught her and the flame begins to grow until Kei is bending a full inferno around her body.

Kei finishes with a roar and watches with wonder as a long, messy stream of fire erupts from her mouth. When she's finished, she brings her hands to her chest and exhales the way Rina taught her.

Rina's laughter quiets and pride glows in her eyes. There's also a hint of sadness, but it's not the bad kind. "Congratulations, Avatar. Now let's work on that roar."

**vii.**

While Rina perfects Kei's firebending, whispers of surviving airbenders in the Earth Kingdom reach their small village.

"There's a rumor spreading that there are safe houses high up in the mountains. Airbenders are gathering in them in hopes that they can keep those who remain safe and alive," Himiko says one day over dinner. It makes Kei perk up, puts a little energy in her step after a long day of fire fists and hot squats.

"There are airbenders still alive?" Kei asks. Hope spreads in her chest. This is what Aang sacrificed his life for. She'd thought that she'd lived in the swamp for too long, wasted too much time, to save the Air Nomads from extinction.

Himiko nods. "It sounds like it. This makes finding you an airbending master a lot simpler. When Sifu Rina finishes with you, we can start looking for one of these safe houses."

Kei can't help the wide grin on her face. She shovels down what food is left on her plate and excuses herself, running through the front door as quickly as she can.

Even though their hut is situated in town near all the hustle and bustle of people working, Kei still manages to find a quiet spot for meditating behind an empty apothecary store. When she lived in the swamp, she meditated almost every day. She connected with the tree and it showed her visions of the swamp's history and of all the creatures that lived there. Sometimes it showed her visions of other people's lives, which she now realizes were memories from her past lives. There'd been a woman with blue tattoos fighting a monster of iron and and a man wrapped in green ripping a canyon into existence.

Her journeys had taken a lot of her past-times from her, but she needed to talk to Aang and so she'd made time to meditate.

Kei throws herself on the ground and quickly twists herself into the Lotus position. She calms her breathing and opens her mind. _Aang?_ she whispers.

"Hello, Kei!"

The young girl opens her eyes. Aang sits in front of her, mirroring her position. His gray eyes sparkle and Kei knows before she even says it that he knows too.

"Aang, there's surviving airbenders! They're still alive!"

The tattooed boy smiles and laughs, giddy on the news. "I heard when your waterbending teacher told you. I was so worried. I thought… I thought that maybe the Avatar would be too late to make a difference, but wow!"

Their happiness is a contagious thing. Aang still appears as young as the day he died and Kei has long outgrown him, but together they talk like they're little children. They plan rescuing the airbenders and Aang promises he'll teach her what he can as a spirit so she can prove that she's one of them, too. (He's adamant that he teaches her a move called the air scooter, something he invented himself that allowed him to become a master.)

Kei and Aang talk for so long that soon a pigster crows and the young Avatar realizes she hasn't slept a wink. She's strangely not tired, rather filled with an energy and wonderment she hasn't felt since she first learned she was the Avatar.

"I have to get to training, but we can talk again tonight and you can teach me airbending movements."

Aang nods excitedly. "Absolutely. Good-bye, Kei! Good luck at training!"

**viii.**

As the months pass and Kei's skills grow, she grows more and more anxious about the surviving airbenders. If she's heard about it in little Hira'a, she knows Fire Lord Sozin has in the capital.

Rina senses Kei's anxiousness and does her best to adjust her training. Kei trains harder, longer, and Rina pushes her to perfection. She knows the urgency in her student and she knows what is at stake.

Kei goes home exhausted, covered in soot, with the occasional burn that Himiko has to heal, almost every day, but she wouldn't have it any other way.

She's been with Rina one year and three weeks, only three months after the airbending rumors began, when the master says Kei has completed her training.

"I've taught you all I know. You still need to practice form and strengthen your breathing, but it's nothing you can't do by yourself." Bumi and Himiko are with her and Rina looks to them. "I think she's ready to find her airbending teacher."

Kei jumps and squeals almost louder than when she firebended for the first time. When she sees Himiko's serious gaze on her, she composes herself quickly and diverts her gaze. "Sorry," she mumbles.

"I can provide you with enough supplies to make it to the Earth Kingdom. After that, you'll be on your own," Rina says. Kei's still struggling to stay still and suppresses a giggle when her master winks at her.

Bumi nods and bows. "That's more than enough. Thank you, Rina."

"It was my honor teaching the Avatar."

**ix.**

The journey back to the Earth Kingdom flies by like nothing. Kei feels more confident than ever. _She's_ the Avatar. And she's going to be the one to save the Air Nomads.

Frequent lessons with Aang have taught her basic airbending moves. While her predecessor can't actually bend anymore, that doesn't stop him from guiding her through the circular footwork and defensive stances. With his instruction, she's even been able to create a less-successful version of the air scooter. When she shows Bumi and Kamiko, the two are amazed and Bumi wants to try what she's learned against earthbending.

Kei gets hit with rocks more than she'd like and she wouldn't consider herself a master by any means, but she begins to easily incorporate air into her routine multi-bending drills.

It's almost disheartening when she realizes that finding the airbenders isn't so cut and dry. Bumi says he's not sure what she expected. _They've survived twenty years after the genocide for a reason and it hasn't been by posting flyers that say, 'Surviving airbenders this way! Come find us!'_ he says laughing.

They travel from small town to small town, asking about odd events or people with strange coverings. Eventually, they find a bread crumb trail of whispers and follow it to the mountains in the north.

On the way, they travel through the Serpent's Pass. The sea snakes who'd once called it home are nowhere to be found. According to Himiko, they haven't populated the pass since Yangchen's reign; they'd been hunted for their organ's healing properties due to a plague that'd consumed the continent.

Kei releases Ryuu into the lake. With no other serpents to threaten him, it's the best place she can leave him for now. He's grown too large to carry in a rucksack and Kei knows she can't take him into the icy mountains without hurting him.

She cries when she sets him in the water and nuzzles cheeks with him.

"Hey, I'll come back for you, bud. We can go live on Whale Tail Island and swim with the elephant koi everyday."

Ryuu, the size of a baby dragon and much too heavy for Kei to carry now, hisses and shakes his head before he disappears under the water. She sees his dark purple scales flash under the surface before he disappears.

The Avatar is quiet for the rest of the day. It's the longest she's ever been away from her animal friend.

When Kei has nearly given up all hope, the owner of a small vegetable farm tells her about a group of vegetarians living in the nearby mountains who frequently come down to buy food from him.

"They're always wearing full coverings even if it's summer in the middle of a heatwave!" says the farmer.

Kei grips Bumi's hand tightly when the farmer says this. _Finally_, she thinks. _Finally, I've found you._

The group replenishes their supplies and not even a day later begin their trek up the mountain.

The higher they go, the colder it gets and Kei finds herself miserable. She's never been somewhere so cold but Himiko says it reminds her of home, just with more rocks. After a day of traveling, Kei sees snow for the first time and Himiko takes the opportunity to further the young Avatar's knowledge of phase changing in combat.

They follow a narrow path through the mountains that appears as if it hasn't been used in years. There are no footprints or trail markers, only the howling wind and a churning in Kei's gut.

She feels like someone is watching her. Kei hopes it's the airbenders biding their time.

When the sun sets, they make camp for the night and squeeze around a small fire that Kei coaxes to life. Bumi stays awake to keep guard and Kei falls into a restless sleep. Her dreams are filled with nothing but darkness and in the morning she wakes covered in a cold sweat.

At high noon the next day, they discover a cabin. It peaks out of the mountains on a flat area of land. Tall trees surround it and make it almost invisible to the average traveller.

Kei stumbles through the snow until she reaches it and pushes the door open. She isn't sure what she expects, but this isn't it.

The cabin is empty and whatever excitement Kei felt sours until it tastes like ash in her mouth.

Still she enters and begins to look around. She pushes back the hood of her coat and tugs off her gloves. In one corner, there is a wooden table with a few items and books on it. Walking over, she begins to inspect and her hope returns.

A book titled _Sky Bison: A History of the Original Benders_ and a golden locket with a bald man on the front are among the items. Then Kei notices an air glider and orange robes in the corner and she lets out a small noise of happiness.

"Bumi! Himiko!" she calls. "Come look!"

Her teachers enter the cabin and begin to look with her. At first glance it seemed like nothing. But now it was everything. Proof that an entire people hadn't been destroyed.

Kei moves to inspect a fireplace in the corner and brushes her fingers across the mantle. Her fingers catch on something and she picks it up. It's a piece of jerky, probably dried from a koala sheep. Kei frowns as she looks at it.

Then she looks up and, for the third time, takes in the room. At first glance, it was empty. At second glance, it was full of timeless artifacts and proof that the airbenders were still alive. At third glance… Everything seemed too perfect. Perfectly placed and organized, strategic in placement.

Kei looks back into the jerky in her hand and she remembers the vegetable farmer. _Air Nomads are vegetarians,_ she remembers.

"Bumi," Kei calls slowly, placing the jerky down. "I don't think any airbenders live here."

"What are you talking about?" he says happily. "Look at all these artifacts! And the coals in the fire are still hot. Aang would be so happy."

"Bumi, there's no kindling."

Her earth master looks around and his face begins to fall and harden.

"And I found jerky over here. Air Nomads don't eat jerky."

Himiko inhales sharply, her eyes wide and alert. "They're luring them out with the rumors and cabin. It's a set-up! We need to–"

The cabin's front door bursts open and four Fire Nation soldiers, clad in their coal black armour, spill through the door.

"You are under arrest by order of his eminence Fire Lord Sozin! Keep your hands visible and do not bend."

Himiko's hands twitch for the waterskins at her side and Kei watches Bumi go deathly still. Three on four? They could take those odds, right?

Kei makes the choice for them.

Stomping down, she rips a chunk of the earth out of the ground and launches it at the group of Fire Nation shoulders. It hits two of them, blasting them through the wall behind them. Bumi and Himiko burst into action, launching a volley of attacks on the two remaining soldiers. Kei leaves them to it and hops through the hole she made in the cabin wall.

The two soldiers are recovering, dazed by the blow. One of them adjusts the helmet on his head and snarls, kicking out with one of his legs and bringing his right fights forward for a powerful jet of flames.

Kei ducks and swings low to the ground, kicking out her foot so a trail of rocks hits the soldier in the foot and puts him off-balance. The soldier falls and Kei finishes him with a sweep of her arms, the snow beneath him carrying him off the side of the mountain.

The remaining soldier gapes at her. "No," he says.

Kei doesn't respond, only changes the snow near her into a whip of water that she lashes out and uses to grip the soldier. She pulls her arms around and then pushes them away, flinging the soldier to the ground, and brings her arm down quickly to slam him in the stomach with her water whip.

She's feeling rather proud of herself when Himiko calls out her name. "Watch out!"

Kei spins and her gut sinks. An entire squadron of Fire Nation soldiers marches down the mountain, surrounding the cabin and closing off any means of escape.

Three to four odds she could handle. But this? She wasn't so sure. Not without the Avatar State and she'd never entered it.

She tries. She really does. She uses every lesson she's been taught and even employs a little airbending here and there to knock soldiers into trees.

But there are hundreds of soldiers, all dying to bring the missing Avatar back to their Fire Lord and she's no match for that.

They tie her up and separate her from Bumi and Himiko. She's bleeding and bruised and burned in more places than she cares to count and it hurts to breathe. When they load her onto an airship, her eyes are too swollen for her to even see where they lead her. All she knows is that it smells like metal and death, and she's never wanted to go home more in her life.

Once they've reached a cell far away from anyone else, they unlock it and toss her inside like she's no more than a sack of rotten fish.

She cries out through the cloth they've tied over her mouth, her body throbbing. She's crying; she can feel the tears making tracks down her filthy face.

"Enjoy the rest of your life in a prison, Avatar," a soldier hisses and the metal door screeches shut. She can hear his boots echoing down the hallway, growing distant and quieter until all she's left with is the aching hole in her heart and the sound of her own broken breathing.

* * *

_tbc._


	3. Book Two, Part II: Water

**Synopsis:** Aang receives a vision of the future during the storm in which he freezes himself and is presented with a choice: Envoke the Avatar State and remain frozen for one hundred years or drown and reincarnate so the next Avatar can save what remains of his people post-genocide. The choice is not easy. It takes a full cycle to bring the world back to peace.

**Author's Note:** Here's the second piece of Book Two: Water. It took me a little bit as I've been working a lot and it's monstorous but it's done. I also have a major piece of Part III finished as well and it's flowing well because it's all kicking ass and taking names later. Yeehaw. Also, thank you guys for the feedback. It makes me hella happy to see you guys as invested in these characters as I am. P.S. I've figured out my main conflicts for the final two Avatars in this fic and I'm _excited as all get out_ to share it with y'all. I have them named. Hint: Earth's name starts with a 'J' and Fire with an 'A'.

_WARNING_: This chapter definitely hits on the side affects of war, i.e. torture, rape, and other awful things. Continue with that in mind.

* * *

**BOOK TWO: WATER  
PART II  
**_AVATAR KEI_

_Since beginningless time, darkness thrives in the void, but always yields to purifying light._

**i.**

She's forgetting what shade of blue the sky is. When they brought her to the prison, she was unconscious and simply woke up in bondage. She tries to fight, screams her throat bloody and pulls against her chains, but she's all alone here and it only amuses her captors when they see just how much she's exhausted herself.

Time bleeds together in her cell. There is no morning and there is no night; there is only the time is takes for her bruises to fade and for her hope to die.

Not even the schedule the guards have for bringing her food and water keeps her grounded. Sometimes it feels like weeks between rounds; others it feels like mere minutes. All she knows is that starving is better than eating sometimes. She's tired of fighting off too touchy Fire Nation guards. At least when she's hungry she's alone.

And she _is_ all alone when the guards aren't forcing their tongue in her mouth. (They learned quickly after she burned one guard's face off with a breath of fire so hot it melted metal.) Not even Aang or Roku visit her here. She hasn't felt their presence since the mountain and she'd never realized how completely unalone she'd always been until now.

Then one day–or maybe it's night–she does receive a visitor. They pull her chains so tight her hands turn blue and the leather straps from the muzzle dig into her jaw and ears. It brings tears to her eyes but she _refuses_ to cry.

_I am unyielding and unbreakable like the First Tree. My blood is water, my breath is air, my bones are earth, and my soul is fire. I am the Avatar and I will not break._

A soldier opens her door and bows as her visitor slides into the room.

"Just knock," says the soldier, "and we will open the door again, Your Eminence."

Kei's head lifts, her focus raising from a rusty spot in the corner of the room. _The Fire Lord._

Even in his old age, Sozin is a fearsome sight. His long white hair is pulled back in a traditional fashion, illuminating his sharp jaw and cheeks, and in the darkness she understands why people compare his eyes to the burning embers of a fire. Through the shadows, his mouth is severe and when he looks at her, bound and humiliated, the corners of his lips tip up.

"It's been some time since I last saw you, Avatar."

Kei is confused for a moment–_she's never met Sozin_–before a memory flares in her consciousness.

Roku reaching his hand out to an old friend–and Sozin denying it. Sulfur rushes her nose and unbearable heat washes over her as a volcano consumes her.

She snarls and tugs on her chains as rage fills her, quick and untamable. Pain races through her shoulders and biceps. "You left me to _die_."

Sozin shrugs and clasps his hands behind his back. "A necessary evil. Roku did not share the same vision I do for the world."

"And your vision includes the annihilation of an entire race? The destruction of _everything_ and _everyone_ not Fire Nation?"

Sozin clicks his tongue. "I wouldn't expect you to understand. It's apparent you grew up among common peasants in this lifetime. I do not wish to destroy the world and all of the wonder it has to offer. Quite the opposite. My country is not the only one that deserves to live in wealth and prosperity. I only wish to share what has made my country prosper."

"You _burned_ the air temples until they were nothing but rubble," Kei snarls, muffled through the muzzle. "Now you're taking waterbenders from their homes and doing _spirits_ know what to them."

"And tell me, Avatar, what do you think my purpose was in these endeavors?"

_Because you are sick. Because you enjoy pain and destruction._

Sozin makes a noise trapped between disappointment and mockery when Kei does not answer.

"Because I was looking for you. The Avatar is an outdated notion trapped in the old world. If I am to bring this world into the new, it cannot be held back by something so archaic."

Kei's heart clenches. "You aren't helping this world. You're burning it to the ground and I won't let you do it."

The Fire Lord grins. It's all sharp teeth and narrowed eyes. _He looks like a dragon. _"You can try and stop me. Perhaps in your next life, Avatar. You won't be able to do much from inside this cell."

Sozin knocks on the door and the guard immediately opens.

The Fire Lord turns to him and peers down, his arms folded inside his crimson robes. "Make sure you take your time breaking her in," he says.

When Sozin leaves, he takes a piece of her soul with him. She knows he can hear her screaming curses at him, but she knows the rattle of her chains are like a sweet lullaby to him. Kei doesn't feel the absence until much later but she knows that's the moment it disappeared. She's always thought that being the Avatar made her untouchable. Stopping her, _defying_ her, isn't possible. She's the world spirit. She's strength and justice, peace and mercy, everything the Avatar is supposed to be.

Nothing–not even a Fire Lord stained with the comet–can stop her.

It doesn't feel like she's strong when the chains and leather straps dig deep scars into her wrists.

**ii.**

She knows time is like a river, constantly ebbing and flowing, and that the pain she feels is temporary. It will flow into an ocean greater than she is and her time in prison will feel like a small drop in comparison. She's lived hundreds of lives before and will live hundreds more.

Her suffering will end one way or another but it's hard to remember that when she's forgotten what it feels like to walk, mud squishing between her toes.

The memory has been replaced with the _snap! _of a whip.

**iii.**

She isn't sure when she stops praying to the First Tree. She just knows she does. It only makes her feel more alone.

**iv.**

The guards haven't bothered her since she burned one of them. They're too scared of her, too scared to try for a tale of glory, one night with the Avatar, and Kei is grateful.

She's not sure she could handle it if they took that very last part of her.

There is one guard, though. He's different from the rest. He rotates into her feeding schedule not long after she stops praying.

He takes the time to wipe the blood from her wrists and ankles where her chains have worn her skin raw and cleans her as best he can when it's his shift. The first few times she jerks away and growls low in her throat like a polar bear dog. She doesn't trust him; she doesn't trust any of them. The guard only hums a sweet tune and moves slowly and deliberately like she's a feral animal. (She thinks she might be turning into one at this point but it's the only way she'll ever survive.)

"I've never left the Fire Nation," he says to her one day. He's never spoken before, only hummed. Kei watches him with wary eyes as he dips a rag into a bowl of warm water and wipes away the blood on her back where the warden whipped her to the bone. It's become almost a ritual and he hasn't shown any signs that he wants to harm her but there isn't a bone in her body that trusts him. "My brother has. He's an officer. Mother misses him a lot. I wanted to be a soldier like him when I was younger, but one of us needed to stay at home to care for Mother and I didn't want him sacrificing his career when I'd barely started. That's how I got here."

Kei isn't sure what he wants her to say. She knows nothing about how family life fits into the Fire Nation military. That, and she cares very little about the guard's personal life.

He wrings the rag out again and she bites down hard on her cheek when he reaches a spot in her back she's sure looks like shredded meat.

It's not enough to quiet her, though, and she lets out a strangled noise. The guard stops.

Kei's head hangs between her shoulders, her eyes half-closed. There isn't an inch of her body that doesn't hurt, whether it's a dull ache or a sharp lance; it's hard to focus on much else so she doesn't hear the guard coming around to her front.

His bare hand touches her chin and Kei reels. Her heart immediately begins to race and fire flares in her but there's nowhere for it to go. She hasn't been touched since the other guard tried to kiss her. This man had been so careful to avoid touching her directly, always placing something between them, but he'd broken that and somehow Kei feels betrayed.

His touch is gentle as he tilts her head up and she's extremely aware of the calluses on his thumb and pointer finger.

When she looks at him, all she can see is destruction. Golden eyes set in a tan face and hair the color ink combine to tell her who he is and what he's capable of. _Fire_ _Nation_. Her lip curls and she'd snap her teeth if she wasn't muzzled. She settles for jerking her chin away and hissing air through her teeth.

The guard pulls back and frowns. Dare she say it, he almost looks hurt.

And then it's gone and he's aloof and smiling that half-smile again.

"I'm sure you don't care to know about me. We're just about all the same I imagine. I wouldn't want to see me every day either." He pauses and chews on his bottom lip for a moment. She watches him with careful eyes and pushes away the pain-induced nausea rolling in her gut. "I'm sorry," he says. "I just–I don't know. I talk too much when I get nervous and I've just been trying to work up the courage to tell you I don't think what they've–_we've_–done is right."

Fury, bitter and sour, rises up in her, roars through her body and if she could bend, the ground would shake beneath her and the wind would whistle and howl like it does in through the mountain tops.

_You're all the same, _she screams._ You're all grimy, evil, greedy bastards who take pleasure in hurting people. Hurting me._

_But you know that's not true,_ something deep in her whispers. It's a voice she hasn't heard for a long, long while and it pierces her heart. It nearly sends her into a frenzy. _Rina. Roku. Even the baker's wife in Hira'a who snuck you sweet rolls. They're Fire Nation. Are they the same?_

Her eyes prick and her throat swells. _Aang? You're back._

_I never left._

The guard starts up his humming again. Her thoughts echo around her head, her anger chasing itself like a snake swallowing its tail until eventually it vanishes into nothing. Something else takes its place, slowly growing, a speck of light in the dark.

Kei swallows, her vocal chords grinding together like two dry rocks. It hurts and on the first try she makes a strangled sound that startles the guard into silence.

It's his turn to watch and wait as the young Avatar forces the words from her like she's trying to claw her way out of a mud trap. (Once not too long ago, she'd been a chatty child who'd always had a story to tell. Strange how foriegn things like speaking had become in her imprisonment.)

_"My name… is… Kei…"_

There it was. Thinner than parchment and barely a whisper, but _there_. Her name. When had she last heard it?

The way the guard smiles tells her he already knew that but he's honored she'd share it anyway. She only hopes that the relief and awe shimmering in the guard's eyes is enough to appease Aang. She wants her friend to come back, keep her company as she counts bolts in the metal floor.

"I'm Jiro," the guard says and for the first time she notices a dimple just above the right corner of his mouth.

**v.**

She's not sure what's changed but something has. Jiro no longer dances around her like she's a caged tigerdillo and Kei stops tensing her entire body in anticipation when he cleans her endless wounds.

They strike mindless conversation. She learns that like many of the males his age, Jiro is the first in his family to serve the Fire Nation military in one way or another. Before he or his brother entered the military, they'd grown up on a small boat with a fisherman to call father. He talks about salt in his mouth and hair with a fond curve to his mouth that makes Kei think of home, too. A giant banyan-grove tree and bare feet squishing in mud and berries. Drums pounding in the village center as she and other children laugh and dance for the solstice celebration with white paint smeared on their bodies. She thinks of sharing her childhood with him but she's not quite ready for that so she lets him fill the silence with funny tales of the ocean.

The more Jiro talks, the more she finds him a man of many contradictions. A boy made of the brightest fire who enjoys being surrounded by miles and miles of water, who grew up on the sea. A soldier with high ambitions and plenty of talent but not enough brutality to ever move through the ranks. A jailer who provided what small freedoms he could manage.

Jiro begins to take her muzzle off even when she's not eating and sneaks a salve into the prison to rub on the thick scars circling her wrists. He's kind and he never expects anything from her. She wants to question his intentions, keep him boxed in with the rest of the cruel men she's met here, but his sparkling eyes and grin melt that away.

"I could get something better in," he says with a frown as he smooths the muck over the inside of her wrists where pale blue vines peek out from beneath white scar tissue. "But I'm afraid the warden would notice and it's not me I'd be worried about." His eyes flicker to her back and she knows what he's thinking of.

Some days he'll find her barely alive, hanging from her wrists, her back slashed completely open. Or sometimes she'll still be gasping for air, the uncanny feeling of drowning still present in her mind. She prefers the whip over waterboarding. No waterbender should fear the element the way she's begun to.

Kei shrugs and fidgets a little in her position, trying to find comfort on the cold slab of metal. (During his shift, Jiro also loosens her chains enough so she can sit on the ground. She's grateful and takes the opportunity to hone in on her chi paths and mend what she can in her body by simply encouraging the flow of chi. She suspects it's the only reason her shoulders have survived without too much injury this long.)

"I'll take what I can get," she says. "You already risk too much for me. Idiot."

Jiro makes a noise and continues fussing over the day's injuries but his mouth is crooked with a grin again. She shoos him away finally, scolding him, but it's all pretense.

"You're worse than my mother," she jokes and moves to swat him. Her chains rattle and jump, stopping her short, and her amusement dies.

He tugs on the chain holding her right hand and makes a noise in the back of his throat.

"Jiro," she says, a warning.

He sighs and picks his helmet up from the ground, twisting it back in his head. "You're the Avatar," he says as if those three words are all the explanation she needs.

Kei grunts but dips her head down. She doesn't need a reminder that she's a pathetic excuse of an Avatar, kept alive only so the Fire Nation doesn't have to hunt her down again. She's accepted she'll rot here as long as Sozin wants with only Jiro to keep her sane. She's even accepted that Jiro will likely leave her and she'll have to learn to live alone again.

Another guard bangs on the door, the replacement for the day shift, and Jiro makes quick work buckling the muzzle on and tightening her chains. He shuffles around, removing any trace of hospitality, and disappears out the door. Jiro makes small talk with the other guard, his voice softened and distorted through the door.

Kei closes her eyes and sinks into her chains. Her muscles tighten before they loosen into the familiar form.

_Aang? _she calls out. _Take me to a memory._

And he does. There's fruit pies and an older monk with mischief in his eyes and full-belly laughs that all bring warmth back into her body.

This is how she survives.

This, and healing salves a boy with golden eyes brings.

(Or maybe it's more the boy than the salves but she'll never admit it.)

**vi.**

Jiro disappears for a while. He's there one night and gone the next and Kei is hit hard with the realization she'd begun to rely on the fisherman's son. Heavily.

She doesn't like it, but the bond is there and it won't sever no matter how much she gnaws at it.

And it wasn't even for the wounds, which had taken a deep dive into a pain she hadn't experienced since her first weeks there.

For his company and friendship and–

_No, I can't admit it._

A different guard takes up his place. He's fresh meat and despite the other guards' warning that he shouldn't bother her unless it's for feeding or watering, he tries anyway.

She bristles like a cornered animal when he nervously reaches for his belt buckle and the same thread that holds her together after the warden whips her to the bone surges in her.

The guard leaves with a broken nose, a bloody lip, and one less ear.

They bestow forty lashes from the braided whip onto her raw back. Even when she coughs blood, her tongue bleeding, she doesn't regret attacking the guard.

They even try waterboarding her for a couple hours, leave her gasping through a wet rag as her lungs scream, but still. Not a trace of regret.

She's not sure why. They've broken every part of her so she might as well get this final breaking over. Let them ruin what little piece of dignity she has left. But the old spirit in her, the proud soul she is, acts before she can stop it.

And when it was over with, the guard howling at her chained feet, she couldn't say she regrets letting it take over.

When the warden leaves with his filthy whip in tow, she spits out a mouthful of blackish blood mingled with salt water and stares down the door, fury singing her veins.

It takes a while for Jiro to return.

But eventually he does.

He isn't the same.

**vii.**

Her door inches open and she rattles her chains just a bit to make it clear she's awake and she's watching. She doesn't need another new recruit thinking they can take advantage of her again. She's fought this hard for long enough. Might as well keep it up.

The guard steps in, pauses. He takes his helmet off and Kei can't help the grin that tugs on her face beneath the mask. She wishes she could reach for him, wrap him in a hug, because _spirits_ she's missed him.

But she stops, though, stops thinking about the equal measures of pride and worry that'll spark in his eyes when she tells him she bit a guard's ear off for trying to touch her, when she sees. There's a deep slash on his face, something new and red and raw that slices through his eye and down his cheek.

A muscle in his jaw ticks.

"We're getting you out of here, Kei."

**viii.**

She tries to tell him he's a _fucking madman_. No one escapes a Fire Nation prison, not men who steal bread, not run of the mill benders, and certainly not _her_.

Jiro won't budge. He's determined to whisk her away and after a while she thinks that maybe his sudden spark of rebellion has something to do with the new scar on his face.

He'd always hated keeping her here and had made little comments about her deserving to be free but never something like this.

Her mama always said that one scar on the skin was equal to one hundred on the soul. Kei thinks her mama might be right.

"I'd think you _want_ to stay here if I didn't know better," Jiro snarls. They're arguing for the hundredth time; she's trying to convince him that this is a terrible, _terrible_ idea and it'll never, _ever_ work.

"Of course I don't want to stay here. But I'm not an idiot and I don't want to see you die over something that Sozin will never happen."

Jiro shakes his head violently, dark hair falling over his forehead. The gash on his face has softened from a deep red to a pale pink and it shifts as he frowns and grinds his teeth together.

Kei softens. "What happened when you were gone?"

"Nothing," he bites. He refuses to meet her eyes.

"Jiro, you've always stuck your neck out for me. And I'm grateful. You've made it bearable for me here and I'd like to think that we're… friends. But you never did more than you could manage. You were _smart_ about it and you didn't push limits. What's changed?"

He turns and braces his hands against the walls. Kei wants to reach out and comfort him but her restraints keep her locked to the ground.

"Jiro, _what happened to you?_"

He rips away from the wall and finally meets her gaze. Those amber eyes flare and snap like a campfire and she inhales a sharp breath through her nose.

"My brother is dead. He died in combat during some uprising in the colonies. They were going to ship his things and his body back, but I wanted to go there and get him myself. I don't know why I wanted to go so badly. Maybe it had something to do with seeing the last place my brother was alive or finally leaving the islands."

Her heart aches for him right away. She's never experienced loss like that but she couldn't imagine losing anyone close to her. The closest she's ever come is Bumi and Himiko but she still has hope at least.

"When I got there, it wasn't at all like I'd thought it would be. We were always taught in school that we were doing the other nations a favor by invading. We were sharing our technology, our wealth. And, I don't know, Kei. I knew before I left that what they've been doing to you wasn't right and I didn't think it was right to kill the Air Nomads, but I didn't think it could _all_ be bad. Not when so many of my friends and family have been apart of this. We wouldn't do all that if it was _wrong_.

"But the colonies… there's so much destruction. We're not rebuilding _anything_. People live in complete poverty. The natives are harassed and assaulted and used for labor until their bodies can't handle it anymore. We're not bettering anyone by being there. I just didn't know what to think or do. It wasn't like anything I'd been told."

Recently, in her meditation, she and Aang had spoken a lot. He'd been the only one to visit her so far and refused to tell her why he had disappeared for so long and why Roku still stayed away. The younger boy was trying to guide her to something but it took her a while to figure out what exactly it was.

The airbenders were the most obvious victims of the war, having nearly been slaughtered to extinction. The Water Tribes came in a close second as their culture and bending styles were slowly wiped away with each siege or invasion. Even small areas of the Earth Kingdom that were colonized had clearly been devastated by Sozin's control.

The world was clearly in imbalance and Sozin had been the creator of a lot of suffering.

And then Kei realized–no one spoke of the Fire Nation itself.

Boys were ripped from their mothers while bending was warped and manipulated for power and control. Sozin and his team of advisors gutted children's minds and filled them up with whatever propaganda they thought would breed the best generation of soldiers. They lied to the people and used them like fodder.

"The day before I was supposed to return home, there was another uprising. A faction of earthbending rebels that had evaded capture led an assault on the Fire Nation headquarters. I was drawn into the fight. I–I killed someone for the first time. They were the one who gave me this scar. They cut me as I watched the life leave their eyes. And then before I'd even realized what I'd done, I was forced to kill again–and again. It was the most awful thing I've ever had to do. When it was all done and over with, one of the soldiers told me that I'd get used to it. 'They're just a bunch of savages,' he said. 'We're doing them a favor.'"

Hysteria dances across every line in Jiro's body.

"Who even _says_ that? These are boys that I grew up with. They're family and friends and they're being ruined by something they have no say in. The way those rebels looked at me… I can't even blame them, Kei. What we've done to them is awful. What's being done to us–I can't stand for it." And then the man in front of her looked at her and her heart stopped. _Hope_. His eyes were brimming with it, pouring over, filling the room. She wanted to panic. She couldn't feel that, didn't need it or want it, couldn't have it if she were going to survive here. "I'm getting you out of here or I'm going to die trying. The world needs you, Kei. I didn't see it before but I do now and I'm going to play my part in this."

She opens her mouth to fight him again. Tell him no again. But that old spirit, that proud spirit, rises up in her again.

"Okay. What do we need to do?"

**ix.**

He begins unlocking her chains at night. She learns to walk again, her first steps wobbly like a newborn foal. When she's mastered that, she relies on years of memories of bending lessons to guide her back into a state somewhat capable of fighting.

They plan. Jiro times shift changes and memorizes blueprints he doesn't already know by heart. She tells him of the Order of the White Lotus. _Maybe they can help us once we get to the outside._ Jiro looks at her like she's crazy when she mentions the ancient group but promises to look for them.

It's exhausting. Being chained and immobile for so long has eaten away at her strength and Jiro has to hold her up at times. She cries other times, frustrated and aching, when they can't seem to find the right way out. But she's full of determination now and she's seen–_felt_–much worse.

The pain of learning to be human again is child's play in comparison.

**x.**

They have to move their plan along much more quickly than they expected when Jiro catches wind of an important visitor. Azulon, the Fire Lord's heir, has announced a visit and she has a feeling once he arrives, it'll be a long time before she ever gets an opportunity to escape.

_"He wants to see the Avatar,"_ the warden tells Jiro. _"See what kind of creature his father's got all chained up in the Boiling Rock."_

They're set to escape two days before Azulon arrives. When the time comes, Jiro brings her two waterskins and a prison guard uniform.

Jiro's hands shake when he slides the keys he stole into the chain's locks. They fall to the ground and Kei kicks them aside. She rubs her wrists, takes in the way they look without metal coiled around them. She feels a thousand times lighter, like a bird released from a cage.

She strips out of her threadbare jumpsuit, stained with blood and dirt, and pulls on the spare uniform. The material is thicker, warmer, than anything she's worn in ages and a shiver of relief rolls through her as a chill is chased away. Then she swings the waterskins around her shoulder and lets them bounce on her hips. The stoppers hang free so she can bend the water out at a moment's notice.

Jiro looks her up and down and plunks a helmet on her head. He cocks a grin but it's laced with nerves.

"There," he says. "Now you look like any other scrawny new recruit."

Kei scowls and playfully slugs the man in the shoulder. "Let's get going. We don't have long if we're to go off your information."

Shift changes have increased with Azulon arriving. It's made it harder to work around but if they move quickly, they should be fine. Jiro said he'd timed them the day before. They have ten minutes before the next guard arrives.

Her breath echoes in the helmet like the sound of the tides pulling back. Jiro has a hand on the inside of her elbow, supporting her still-weak body. (They'd had some time to recover her petrified muscles but there was only so much someone could do in a room only seven feet long and five feet wide and so little time.)

The hallways look the same as they had when they'd first dragged her deep down into the prison's belly. Large rivets bullet dark sheets of metal into the walls and torches light the way, spaced evenly every twenty or so feet.

When they come across the first soldier, her body tenses and her fingers grow white as they fist. Her spirit reaches for the water in the skins and she can feel it roll under her command.

But he only nods his head in respect and continues on.

When he's out of range, Jiro says, "We need to hurry. He's early. He'll be coming to check on me and we're not there. We've only got a couple minutes before the alarm is sounded."

Kei nods and picks up the pace of her steps. Her legs burn under her and she knows they already want to give out. _Impossibly weak. But in this I cannot fail._

_My blood is water, my breath is air, my bones are earth, and my soul is fire. My blood is water, my breath is air, my bones are earth, and my soul is fire–_

They've made it to the lift and have begun the rise to the surface layer of the prison when a bell begins to sound just above her. It rings loud and clear–_ding dong ding dong ding_–and her heart picks up pace. Her throat is sticky as panic sets in but she pushes it down.

_In this I cannot, will not, fail._

The lift screeches to a stop at the next available floor. She looks up quickly. Only four more levels and they'd reach the surface. Quickly, the doors to the lift are swung open and two guards stand at attention outside it.

The first guard, a tall lanky man whose ponytail swings beneath his helmet, frowns. "There's an escaped prisoner. We're on lockdown," he says gesturing to the bell still ringing high above. "Lift's out of use now."

Jiro clears his throat. "Got it. We'll head to the command center. She's a rookie. The warden probably doesn't want one handling an escapee."

The guard nods and gestures for them to pass them. Doors to the stairwell leading up are in sight and Kei's fingers itch to wrap around the handle and launch herself up until she can finally see the blue sky.

But then–

"Wait a minute…" the second guard says and then he looks at her like he's finally seeing her. Looks past the helmet into her unusual green eyes and spots the waterskins strapped to her sides. His eyes widen and he looks at the way the uniform doesn't quite fit her right.

Kei's blood runs cold.

She reacts on instinct.

The water rushes out of the flasks, rushing and whirling and twisting. She lashes one arm out in an unforgiving water whip and it hits the second guard square in the chest. He slams into a wall, the metal groaning and echoing, and slumps to the floor.

Fire flashes in her peripheral as the first guard lets out a guttural battle cry and she switches stances, falling into old habits, as she prepares to redirect the onslaught.

Jiro beats her to it, reaching out to grab the fist guard's offensive arm, and twists him so his back is to him. He slams a flat palm into the space between his shoulder blades, right on his spine, and the man falls with a pained gasp. He tries to rise but Kei watches him struggle to even lift an arm.

"What did you do?" she hisses.

"Hit a central chi area. Now let's go. Someone had to have heard that."

Chi area? Kei looks down the hall past the lift and catches a glimpse of metal bars. "No, wait."

She moves as quickly as she can, her body invigorated with adrenaline. She finds mass holding cells with men and women still in their civilian clothes. They take one look at her and howl furiously.

Ignoring them, she bends the water out of her flash and pushes it into the lock. The water freezes under her command and the lock groans and snaps.

The cell door swings open and the people inside look at her and whisper among themselves. Kei lets loose an irritated noise.

"Come on now. _Go_."

They don't require any further orders and Kei makes quick work the two other cells nearby before jogging back to Jiro. Two men from the cells have cornered him and she barks at them to leave him be, water hovering at her side.

The men listen before they begin to barrel down the halls and up the nearby stairwell.

"I can't tell if you're a fucking idiot or a genius," Jiro murmurs. Kei simply grabs his hand, squeezes.

"Had to improvise since we didn't make it to ground level unrecognized. I prefer genius."

Jiro pushes her to the stairwell and together they rush up the winding path, boots slapping against metal. Escapees that have run well ahead of them begin to shout as a door opens just above her and soldiers file in.

She swears under her breath and reaches for the water again. Jiro clamps a hand around her wrist and shakes his head. His eyes burn bright as he stares at her and something in her stomach flutters from the intensity.

Jiro swallows and whatever had simmered between them fizzes out as guards and prisoners collide. "We maneuver around them. You can't save everyone here in the state you're in."

Kei's heart flutters a bit, guilt eating at the edges. The familiar feeling of failure grows in her but Jiro refuses to let it consume her as he pulls her past the fighting masses, ducking and parrying guards with calculated jabs with his knuckles into key points.

He knocks back a few guards with sweeps of his legs and blocks with his forearms, carving a path through the narrow space. It takes longer than it should to progress up only a few flights of stairs but eventually they burst into open air.

The scent of water fills her lungs and she wants to weep with joy. She can feel it all around her, connecting her with the world again.

It's chaos. Fire collides with everything in sight as all types of benders attack guards and the bells are still ringing above them.

Jiro points. "There, we need to get to the lifts. They're the only way out of here. You get on and I'll send you across."

Kei's head whips so fast it nearly sends black spots spinning into her vision. "What do you mean you'll send me across. How will you get across?"

He grimaces. "I won't. But we're not going to argue about that. You need to get to safety. On the other side are some contacts from the White Lotus. You probably know them better than I do. Don't stop moving until you reach them. They'll take you to safety."

"I'm not leaving without you, Jiro."

"You will. The world needs you more than it needs me."

"They'll kill you or worse. I'm _not leaving you_–"

Jiro grunts, cuts her off, begins to pull her through the yard. When a guard charges them, an arc of fire lashed out with a pointed kick, Jiro goes low and swings back up, swift and furious. He hits him in three spots along his arm with two sharp knuckles. Kei watches the arm go limp and while the guard is distracted, Jiro hits the guard in the throat. He drops with a heavy thud.

Jiro reaches back, meets her eyes, deep with something, something like–

She chokes in a breath; her throat feels tight and her eyes burn.

_In this I will not fail._

They rush to the platform. An empty car is waiting and Jiro pulls her to it. Her body is frozen. She can't leave him, can she?

He pushes her inside, closing a half-door to trap her there. His adam's apple bobs when he swallows and she can feel his energy shifting as he begins to move away.

"Jiro, wait!" she cries and pulls him back to her by the lapels of his uniform. She clutched the cloth like it's a lifeline, till her knuckles are white with fear.

They're chest to chest, sharing the same breath. Jiro raises a hand and brushes it across her cheek. She's crying? Oh, spirits, she's crying.

"It'll be alright."

She shakes her head, her vision a blur.

"Hey, hey, listen–I'll be okay. I promise."

It's so light she swears she imagines it, the barest brush of lips. She takes in a sharp breath, her eyes squeezed shut. This might be the last time I see him.

She presses her lips even harder to his.

It's all teeth and tongue now, deep breaths as if she can inhale some piece of him to keep with her forever. She wants to tattoo his taste and touch into her memory. Because she's never been able to admit it until now. Never wanted to.

She loves him. _With all her damn heart._

She can't let him go but Jiro, her rock and strength who's been able to make all the hard decisions for her today, makes the decision for her and he pulls down the lever before she has time to protest.

The lift whines and groans as cables pull it towards the lip of the mountain. Jiro grows smaller and smaller and her vision of the battle below grows.

Terror bubbles in her throat as she sees guards, at least thirty of them, surge toward Jiro. He fights strong, holds them back with the same sharp jab of his two front knuckles. His leg swings in a kick that hits one man at the top of his spine.

But strangely, she realizes, he doesn't bend. No fire walls or whips to keep them back.

He's a nonbender.

That old, powerful thing in her spirit starts to rise and ancient power fills her bones. _He can't fight them all with no bending like that. _One guard finally grabs hold of Jiro, rips his arms behind his back, and slams him to the ground.

Light floods her vision. Her blood thrums, hums like electricity is coursing through her body. She can feel the water rushing and rolling below her, the wind howling in her ears, the mountains shaking.

_Don't you dare lay a hand on him don't you dare lay a hand on what is mine DON'T YOU DARE–_

A hand wraps about the back of her neck and pulls her back. Pain ricochets through her skull.

The light fades and darkness consumes her.

**xi.**

A voice so far, far away tries to coax her from the shadows. It's achingly familiar, an anchor in her mind's storm.

She follows it, grasps for it, but slips and falls deeper into the black.

**xii.**

"The Avatar has escaped, Father."

"Hmph. It seems they did a poor job breaking her spirit in."

"What's more… is they say she nearly accessed the Avatar State."

"She's growing powerful. Even when we took everything from her, she still managed to be quite resilient. I made a mistake leaving her there to rot. She's a problem that needs to be dealt with permanently."

"May I speak freely, Father?"

"Of course."

"We didn't take quite everything from her. Have we learned anything about the girl's home? Her family?"

"She's not from either of the polar water tribes but something tells me she grew up surrounded by other waterbenders. When she was apprehended, the men noted she used a peculiar style that they'd never encountered before. She noticeably lacks the tribes' dominant characteristics and looks rather… earthern. A few of their belongings suggested they'd spent some time in Gaoling."

"There is that marshland outside the city, Father. I believe the natives call it the Foggy Swamp. There's rumors of a people who reside there."

"Then perhaps we should send men to investigate."

**xiii.**

When she wakes, Kei thinks that maybe the prison and the escape and the whippings were all just a terrible dream. A soft bed supports her body with a firm pillow placed under her head. She moves to roll over with a sigh but stops when pain races up her spine and to her head.

She hisses, touches the back of her head gingerly. There's a small bump, tender to the touch.

_Where am I?_

Kei knows it's not the prison. The chains are missing and she's been redressed in fresh clothes that smell like sandalwood and soap. Her wrists and ankles are wrapped with white bandages that smell awful. Further inspection reveals a green paste lathered around the scars and wounds that looks all too familiar. _Swamp healing._

She peaks under her clothes and sees that her torso is wrapped with bandages, too. If she wriggles around a little bit, she can feel the mud sinking into her wounds.

Definitely not the prison. But the inside of her room doesn't give her any clues as to who's taken her captive this time.

_Time to take a look._

Kei stands slowly. She rubs her head and shuffles around the room, looking for something to arm herself better with. (She was a shoddy airbender and a competent firebender before imprisonment and there's no telling if she'd have access to earth or water outside her room.)

She finds a bowl of water in the corner of the room and bends it out, flexing her hands as it curls around her. In a way, it reminds her of Ryuu and the way he used to hang on her body. The thought of her guide makes her sad; she misses him greatly and hopes he's found peace in the pass she left him in.

Now armed, Kei opens the door of her room into a hallway. The floors and walls are all wood that creak under her weight. Not a Fire Nation battleship. That's a good sign.

She's light on her feet, an act that doesn't come difficult to her since she hardly weighs more than a koala sheep right now. Starvation will do that to a girl. Bare feet slide against the floor and she breathes slowly, soundlessly, through her nose.

Finally, Kei finds a short set of stairs that lead upward. Even from here she can smell the fresh air, taste the salt, the energy of the vast unforgiving sea.

There's no one on the upper deck when she pokes her head out. Just blue skies and the ocean rolling all around her.

_Where am I? And where is everyone?_

The sails raised give her no clue as to who had her but they finish off the possibility of her being back in Fire Nation custody. They're simple and white, billowed out with the wind. Not a steam engine, which had been their preferred use of mobility for some years now.

More than likely, she's in safe hands. Jiro had said the White Lotus would be waiting for her on the other side of the lift. Was that who had her? Had one of them stopped her from entering the Avatar State?

Anger pinches her face. _I could've saved him, all of them, in the Avatar State._ Jiro was more than likely dead now but she shoves that thought deep down before the gravity of it can dawn fully upon her.

Instead she sits cross-legged near the beak of the ship and lets the wind blow her hair off her face and shoulders. She hasn't felt it in so long. Hasn't felt so free since before her capture.

She plays with the water in her hands and simply enjoys the feeling of being connected with the world again. Some time passes, long enough for the midday sun to move slightly further west.

"Kei?" a voice calls out and the water in her hands falls, soaking into the deck.

Turning, she sees an all too familiar face. Her eyes sting and she bites her lip to prevent herself from letting out an embarrassing noise of joy.

Bumi stands before her. He's still tall and sturdy with wild brown hair. Bushy brows slant over twinkling eyes and she notices a new scar slashed through his left eyebrow.

She barrels into his arms, pulling him into as tight of a hug as she can muster. Her mentor's arms wrap around her, careful around her back where wounds still sting.

"You're alive," she whispers, more to reassure herself than anything else. Her nightmares had been filled with horrific images of Bumi pulled apart or burned to death. "Where's Himiko? Is she here?"

The earthbender pulls her back by her shoulders and takes a long look at her. His gaze lingers on the way her collarbones poke through her clothes and the sharp point to her chin.

"She's down in the mess hall. Come on, let's change your bandages and then we can get a hot meal in you. Everyone is excited to see you. I had to guard your door to stop them from breaking it down to wake you up," he jokes.

A small smile creeps across her face.

Her knees bounce restlessly as Bumi changes her bandages. He says the paste has drawn out most of the infection and Himiko should be able to repair the rest with a few healing sessions.

When he's wrapping new bandages around her, her belly emits a loud growl and pink tinges her cheeks and ears.

Bumi laughs, claps her on the back with a calloused hand, and leads her to the mess hall.

Sitting at a short table with six places set are two familiar faces. Two unfamiliar people accompany them–one has a hood pulled far up over their head so she can barely see the person's mouth–and Kei can't help the defensive shiver that runs up her spine.

Her waterbending escort from the White Lotus shoots up to meet Kei, her chair nearly falling as she boosts out of it.

Himiko looks older, aged, and there's something odd about her that Kei can't place. Same white hair, crystal blue eyes, tan skin–whatever it is, it doesn't stop her from squeezing the life out of her teacher and grinning into her shoulder.

"It's so good to see you. I'm glad you and Bumi got away safe."

A dark look passes over Himiko's face and Bumi lays a hand on Kei's shoulder.

"Not quite, Kei," he says. "We were with a convoy of soldiers for a few weeks. They attempted to interrogate us. They wanted information on you and, uh, we wouldn't talk."

"Oh," she says, frowning. "But you got away, though."

Bumi shook his head. "The White Lotus had gotten wind of the ruse they were playing with the airbenders. They were able to intercept information on our location and free us. But not before they… well, they cut Himiko's tongue out."

Kei inhales a sharp breath and looks back to the waterbender. Looking now, she can see the hollow way the woman's cheeks cave in and the stillness of her mouth.

Tears spring to her eyes and she bites down on her bottom lip as a wave of grief rolls through her. _They'd done this because of her._

Himiko smiles with a closed mouth, shakes her head, and grabs Kei's. The Avatar opens her palm as the older woman begins to draw letters

_N-O-T_

_Y-O-U-R _

_F-A-U-L-T_

She opens her mouth to protest but Kamiko silences her by laying a finger on the Avatar's lips.

_H-A-P-P-Y_

_Y-O-U _

_A-R-E_

_S-A-F-E_

Kei smiles weakly at her teacher and wraps her in another tight embrace. "Me too. I'm glad you're here."

When she's done with her reunions, Bumi finally introduces her to the strangers in the room.

"This is Mela," he says, pointing to the cloaked figure. They stand, push back their hood–a blue arrow points down her forehead to dove gray eyes and a kind mouth. She's young, only a few suns older than herself, but there's timelessness in the fine lines around her face. Kei's mouth falls into a soft 'O'.

The airbender bows, one fist placed into a flat palm. "It's an honor to meet you, Avatar Kei."

She returns the bow. "It's my honor. I've yet to meet an airbender in my lifetime. It must've been a risk to come with Bumi."

Mela hums. "Not at all, Avatar. When the White Lotus rescued your companions, I was among the other prisoners previously captured from the ruse. I'd been traveling with family when we were found out but when your companions said you needed an airbending master, I offered my services. I've been with them this last year as we've searched for you."

"She's been a great help," says Bumi proudly. "She was in charge of communication with your prison guard and provided extensive knowledge on the Fire Nation prisons."

Mela grins sheepishly and shrugs her shoulders, cloak fluttering. "My family tried to learn as much as they could to rescue those of our people who'd been captured. It was nothing."

"Thank you, truly," says Kei. "And who are you?"

The second stranger is a man. He's tall, layered with lean muscle, and silver streaks through his otherwise black hair. A katana is strapped to his side and it's then she picks up the small white scars dashed through his skin from years of work with the blade.

"My name is Takashi. I'm a member of the White Lotus. I am here to ensure you make it to Ba Sing Se," he says, face stern and flat.

"Ba Sing Se? Is that where we're headed?"

Bumi makes a face that sends Kei back to her days as his student. Blatant disappointment colors his features. "Takashi, _enough._ She deserves to know and I think she's capable of making her own decision after what she's been through."

"What? What is it?"

Himiko and Bumi share a long look before her earthbending teacher says, "The Fire Lord is furious you escaped. He's sending men to the swamp to look for your home. He's going to burn it to the ground."

* * *

_tbc._


	4. Book Two, Part III: Water

**Synopsis:** Aang recieves a vision of the future during the storm in which he freezes himself and is presented with a choice: Envoke the Avatar State and remain frozen for one hundred years or drown and reincarnate so the next Avatar can save what remains of his people post-genocide. The choice is not easy. It takes a full cycle to bring the world to back peace.

**Author's Note:** Just start ignoring me when I say, "Okay! This is it! Only one more chapter to go until this Avatar is done!" because I am a liar. I admit. This is not the final piece. Hopefully this is a good thing? Everything just ends up so much longer than I thought it would be when I sit down to actually write it. And when I edit it, I can't seem to find any pieces that I think are filler and take away from the theme I'm trying to convey through Kei. With that said, enjoy this. It's sad. But we get somewhere (kind of) better in the conclusion. WHICH I SWEAR TO GOD will be the next chapter. I don't care if it's rushed. Part IV is the final part. Also I posted this once before, but I removed it because _The Rise of Kyoshi _was released and I wanted to add a few canon details to a certain portion. By the way, has anyone else read it? I thought it was fantastic.

P.S. I just wanted to say how much I appreciate the reviews. I wake up at the asscrack of dawn everyday and I woke up to them more than once and they made my whole day. You are all pure, wholesome humans who deserve the world. :')

* * *

**BOOK TWO: WATER  
****PART III  
**_AVATAR KEI_

_Here is my wisdom for you: selfless duty calls for you to sacrifice your own spiritual needs, and do whatever it takes to protect the world. _

**i.**

They travel fast and hard. Despite Bumi's protests, Kei spends every moment after his revelation bending the water around the boat, urging it forward.

"You're _starved!_" he seethes. Sweat beads on her brow and her arms ache but all she can think about is her village and the undeniable danger they're in–_because of her. _"You need rest. Have you taken a look at yourself? You've been out of the Boiling Rock, the Fire Nation's _worst_ and _most_ _notorious _prison, for less than two days and are in no shape for this kind of bending. Getting there a few hours ahead of schedule won't be worth anything if you're barely alive!"

Kei shakes her head. He's right, of course, but she's been helpless for too long and she'll be damned if she's helpless like that again.

Her earthbending master makes a few more attempts to talk her into rest but none of them are successful. He leaves in a storm of frustration and muttered curses. If they were on dry ground, the dirt below her would tremble and shake–but they're not. They're in the ocean and Kei understands why her two kin tribes have taken up residence in the middle of it. She's always felt her most powerful when they traveled by boat, surrounded by miles of crystal blue water.

An image of a young Jiro sitting on the ledge of boat shoving stolen eel jerky into his mouth flashes through her mind's eye and her heart aches. She blinks back burning tears and tries to focus on other things.

Her arms rotate into another bending stance and she leaves Jiro far behind to drown in the boat's wake.

A little after Bumi leaves another person takes up residence next to her. She doesn't hear them arrive but their presence reaches out and dominates every inch of the deck the same way storm clouds swallow a blue sky. Kei knows who it is without looking.

"If you've come to try your hand at stopping me, don't bother," she says without turning her head to look at Mela. She rotates her arms again and sucks in a breath that sears through her lungs, exertion weighing her down. (She's using the same bending movements her people do to move the swamp skiffs through the swamp and this strikes something in her, a bitter sense of irony perhaps.)

Mela continues her silent watch, just out of arm's reach. She's not wearing the traditional orange robes Kei has always read about, rather a set of plain tan trousers and a loose fitting white shirt, but she supposes that what subtleties Mela can employ to avoid detection, she does.

"Airbenders don't grow up the same way that most of the world does," says Mela after a long minute. "We come together once a year during the summer solstice and throw a festival that lasts a week. There's games and food and it's only then that our people mate. We part ways afterwards and the women who fall pregnant endure it without the men."

Mela pauses and Kei feels a slight wind pull her clothes tight around her body before they let go. She wonders if it was the airbender girl or simply just nature.

"I know it seems strange to outsiders but it's how we've always lived. When the children have been weaned from their mothers, they're sent to another temple. The boys go to one of the polar temples and the girls are sent to whichever temple their birth mother does not reside in. It's to help us reach enlightenment, the ultimate goal of any airbender. We can't have earthly attachments that tether us the way a mother or father bonds with their child does."

Kei grunts, eyes scanning the horizon like she can will the swamp to rise out of it. Bumi says that they have at least a week left, but that's with natural winds and waters.

"When the Fire Nation attacked, I was still a little girl. Maybe three or four years old. I don't remember much about that night except the comet. It was so big and bright that it made the sun look like a tiny star and it turned everything orange. And the smell. I remember that, too. I'd never smelled anything like it, anything so awful. Now that I'm older, I know that that's what burning flesh and hair smell like, but I remember thinking I could smell my sisters' fear. Tart and so heavy I could even taste it on my tongue.

"A small group of us escaped, maybe four or five of us. We fled the mountain and left our dying sisters behind and we moved for days with only brief stops for rest and water. One of the sisters had been badly burned and died on the second day but we didn't have time to perform her death rituals her properly. Of course, this part I've only been told. I don't remember it myself. We moved until we were sure the Fire Nation couldn't find us and even then we were scared of what would happen. The months following the comet were chaos. Sozin had been able to kill most of us with the extra power the comet gave him but the Fire Nation knew there were others like us who'd evaded the slaughter. He hunted those who escaped and burned us alive on pyres."

Kei imagines a small Mela with soot on her cheeks and ash in her hair. Something bubbles in her throat but it's easy to push away with the exhaustion dragging her body down.

"Why tell me this?" Kei asks. "I… I know I've failed in protecting your people. I know I've been locked away as Sozin's picked off those who remain. But I understand what's at stake. I understand there's a whole culture, a whole race of people, relying on me."

"You misunderstand me, Avatar. While I don't remember much from the invasion, I still bear the scars." Mela comes to stand closer and flips her arms so the inside is showing, thin blue vines tracing milky skin. But what stands out the most are the patches of skin that are mottled and stretched, disfigured and shrunken. Skin devoured by an enhanced fire that destroyed all it touched. "I bear them here, but also here."

Mela suddenly grabs Kei's hand, delicate fingers brushing the scar tissue that ropes around her wrists, and places it over her heart. A steady beat thrums below her palm and awe fills her for a moment before panic replaces it she rips her hand back. She doesn't like being touched anymore. Not by anyone. Certainly not a stranger.

"I understand, Kei, what it's like to lose your home and family. Your entire culture. I came to tell you that had I known, had I been able to warn my brothers and sisters, I would have tried. I would have tried even if it meant sacrificing my own body and soul."

Relief swallows her, a brief understanding flickering between them as Kei's desperation to be understood and heard is received loud and clear. Her reflection stares back at her from Mela's gray eyes, chin sharp and proud but a near imperceptible wobble to her mouth.

"Come. There's an easier way to get this ship moving faster. It's futile to try and tame the ocean. La is a proud spirit. I doubt even the Avatar can tame him. But perhaps we can convince the winds to guide us a little faster."

Kei stops, lowers her arms. The airbender has already made her way to the upper deck where the sails sit nearly level with Mela's line of vision. She motions for Kei to follow and, slowly, the Avatar does.

"You've been able to bend air before, yes?"

Kei nods. "I've just never had a teacher. Unless you count Aang but he can't really bend as a spirit; he always just showed me movements."

"Then you're already halfway there. Place your feet like so and raise your arms. Air is the element of freedom and its chakra is located in the heart. When you reach for the energy inside you, draw from memories of love. Use the love you have for your family and people to move the air around you. Direct it into the sail."

Mela demonstrates, her feet swirling and spinning and her arms coaxing the winds around her. Kei watches with fascination as the girl moves through the wind rather than against it, like she herself is made of ether.

A gust builds and Kei raises her own arms to follow suit. Her eyes close and she tries to search for the brightest memories in her.

Her time in the prison surfaces, thoughts of water-logged lungs and broken bone and torn skin overshadowing anything else. Bumi told her she'd only been at the Boiling Rock for a year but it feels like eons when she tries to remember her life before. The memories are dark like a candle has blown out in a windowless room and refuses to light again, refuses to show her what the wallpaper and decor look like again.

So she latches onto her life _then_. There had been one thing that made her life bearable and his name was Jiro. She thinks about him and his stories and his kindness and the dimples in his cheeks when he smiles. And even though the moment had been full of terror and sadness, she thinks about their–_her–_first kiss and the kind of life and passion it'd sparked her that she didn't know she was capable of feeling after life in the dark for so long.

Wind curls around her hands, greets her like an old friend as it kisses her cheeks.

When she opens her eyes the sail is full, snapping at the edges as it jerks and sways. Energy inches through her to compile in her wrists as she flicks them to continue the wind.

Airbending always felt so different from the rest. She could always use sheer willpower and force to bend the other elements. It wasn't that she physically excelled far above what was expected of her; Kei was simply stubborn and tenacious and her determination drove her to work and work until finally whatever it was surrendered to her will. She'd done it with earth and water and she'd even done it with fire, patiently waiting until it surfaced and she ripped it out of its hiding place.

With air, she couldn't force something that barely existed in their plane. It was slippery and evasive and sometimes it listened to her commands and others it didn't.

But with Mela next to her, adjusting her elbows and guiding her breath much like Rina did, she was sure she'd master it just like the rest.

She'd need it and every drop of resolve left in her tank if she was going to stop Sozin from burning her home.

**ii.**

Uncle Bo meanders through the swamp, humming a careless tune as he stomps through mud and moss. His catgator has gone missing _again _and no one in the damn village is willing to look for her with him.

He's tried searching for her through the vines but Lily–named endearingly after the flower who is likely ten times more dangerous than the lazy pet–is a quick beast of an animal. Everytime he gets an inkling of where she's gone, she vanishes as quick as a rabbit hound.

"Yer not gettin' any supper from me tonight, Lily," he calls out, stepping over a large root and pulling back a vine with one large meaty hand. "Better get somethin' while yer out here 'cause you're sleeping outside tonight!"

Uncle Bo pauses, thinks about that for a moment. Even scratches his head. Perhaps that's what Lily wanted–to sleep outside–so she could slither back off into the swamp again, thus forcing him to waste yet another day scouring the swamp. He lets out an exasperated noise, pinches the bridge of his nose, and grumbles something along the lines of '_If I didn't love that damn animal so much…' _

He continues sloshing his way through knee deep water, bending vines apart when they grow too thick to simply plunder through.

The sun sinks slowly and what little light filters through to the undergrowth quickly begins to fade. With a tired sigh, Uncle Bo resigns to the fact that Lily will return when Lily finally forgives him for forgetting to set her aside an extra fish at dinner the night before. He starts on his way back to the village.

Up ahead, Uncle Bo can hear rustling in the trees and his heart picks up. Maybe Lily had gotten caught up in the vines. She'd been known to do that a time or two and his niece Kei had cut her down on more than one occasion when she'd still taken up residence in the swamp.

_Huh. His own niece–the Avatar. Who would've thought?_

The rustling and snapping grows louder and Uncle Bo moves faster through the swamp.

"Hold yer ostrich horses, Lily, I'm coming–"

He breaks through the trees into a small, flooded clearing.

A squadron of men in black and red armor turn their attention to him. Their helmets are terrifying with two small holes for eyes and a row of vertical slits for their mouths.

His eyes latch to an insignia on one of the men's breastplate. _Fire Nation. _

Uncle Bo reaches for the water all around him, feels the energy of the swamp course through his body.

He's a fierce bender, even considered a warrior of sorts in his tribe, but one man can only fight so hard before he falls.

**iii.**

When home rises up out of the ocean, her hands grip the edge of the ship so tightly they go white. Mela still stands on the upper deck, blowing a gale storm into the sails.

Kei turns heel and disappears below deck. She gathers a rucksack and fills it with a few odds and ends (waterskins, a bow and quiver, and even a small knife) before quickly plaiting her hair into a single, traditional tribal braid to keep it out of the way during combat.

With her things gathered, she goes back up deck and climbs the side of the boat, bare feet balancing on a thin line of wood.

"Kei, what are you doing?" calls Mela.

She ignores her airbending master and rolls her shoulders, leaning forward. Water rushes past the boat, a bright turquoise blue.

"Get down, Kei! We won't be able to help if you go now." It's Bumi this time.

She shakes her head and dips down, arms folded as she dives into the water. It rises to meet her, sucking her in and propelling her forward at an inhuman speed.

It's easy to bend the water around her to move herself forward. She bends an air bubble around her head so she can reach land without surfacing for air.

Not soon enough, her toes squish into the soft mud of the shore. Her head rises slowly above the water, eyes level with the surface.

The swamp greets her, tall banyan trees guarding the wilds within. She spots a few birds sitting on branches but they're still and their song is silent. It's quiet, too quiet, and unease flares in her gut.

Prey is only silent like that when a predator is near. The swamp is never, ever silent.

The Fire Nation is here.

Kei crawls out of the water, close to the ground in case foot soldiers are still close to the shore. She scoops mud up with her hands to smear it over herself for camouflage. She coats her arms and legs and even streaks it across her cheeks and eyes.

It's been a long time since she's been home but she knows this swamp like she knows her own face. She could traverse it in the pitch black night with nothing but her memory to go off of. The Fire Nation is walking in blind, searching for a fierce tribe that's never been discovered.

Kei prays it's enough.

Her bow and quiver sit tight against her back and her clothes stick to her body. Heat dries them mostly but humidity keeps them damp.

When she enters the thick copse of trees, she immediately makes her way upward. Vines answer her call, easily tugging her up and out of sight. She'll be able to move faster without detection this way–and it gives her a better vantage point for a soldier's throat with her bow.

Memories of hunting hog monkeys and practicing precision on screeching birds return to her as her bow presses against her chest. Every child in the village learns to shoot a bow even if they're a bender. It's mostly for hunting's sake as killing a boar-q-pine with waterbending alone has proven to be vastly more difficult and dangerous than it's worth.

Kei swings between branches and perches on them, peeking down as she moves towards the center of the swamp. All the animals are hidden and the energy she remembers coursing through every vine or branch is gone. Her throat tightens.

"We've been marching through this damn swamp all day with nothing to show for it," a voice hisses from down below and Kei freezes, pressing her back against the trunk.

She looks down her shoulder and sees three Fire Nation soldiers noisily marching through the undergrowth. They're dressed in a lighter version of their usual black and red armor sans a helmet. She reaches for her bow, eyes narrowing in on the soldier at the back.

"Commander says we've got to round up any backwoods that might've wandered off."

A chuckle. "There's no fucking way any of them got away after we burned that shithole to the ground. _Commander_ is paranoid."

Knocking back an arrow, she holds a breath and the string brushes her cheek. Rage curls around her heart and squeezes like a boa constrictor. She aims. She shoots.

He drops with a thud, clawing at his neck as blood pours from the wound. An arrow is lodged in his throat, right through his trachea.

The two remaining soldiers start, fire blooming in their palms as they search for the perpetrator. Fear is clear in their eyes. Kei knocks back another arrow and aims again. This arrow flies through a soldier's eye and he drops like lead.

By this time, the remaining soldier has found her perch and she slings her bow over her back just in time to dodge a fireball. She tumbles from the tree, landing in a crouch and rolls as he yells and attacks again.

Kei digs her hand into the ground, elbow deep in murky water, and jerks one arm forward. Vines lash out and grab the soldier around the wrist, binding him from another volley of fire attacks. He yells, kicks a leg out, and a short stream of orange fire follows.

She reaches for another vine, lets this one twist around his throat. Righteousness tightens her mouth and narrows her eyes. The warden's face flashes behind her eyelids and she wants nothing more than to let this man hang here and die.

But then she looks at his two companions, two lives she's already claimed without hesitation, and she lets his unconscious body go. He sinks against a tree, purple lacing his throat.

An ugly thing grows in her, yawns and wakens from a deep slumber.

Kei swallows and leaves the men behind.

She doesn't have time to consider what killing a man for the first time means.

**iv.**

Smoke, sweet and thick, floods her senses.

As she runs through the swamp, ducking and dodging and bending, she sings over and over in her mind:

_Please be safe please be safe please be safe pleasepleaseplease–_

But when that smoke finds her, taunts her, she knows. She knows, she knows, _she knows_.

Her heart hammers, a _thud-thud, thud-thud _in her chest. Wind weaves through the trees, following her as she runs, howling like a pack of wolves. The earth rumbles.

_Please please be okay Momma, please be okay Papa for the love of all that is good and bright and holy please be okay–_

She breaks through the trees.

The huts are all piles of smouldering ash, smoke still rising from their remains. There are bodies _everywhere she looks. _Both her people and invaders lie in dark pools of blood. There's a line of bodies lying face down, surrounded by a sea of red. They'd been slaughtered, execution style, carotids slit. The smell of burnt flesh fills her nose and that thing that had yawned awake in her begins to snarl and shake.

Kei falls to her knees as she chokes on her grief. Her body hums and shakes and she feels like she's being swallowed by the world, growing smaller and smaller until she twists into herself and disappears. She's shrinking and the beast inside her grows.

There are still Fire Nation soldiers here and they've begun circling in on her, posed to fight. They think she's just another villager and they spit toward her venomously.

In the center of the village is a pyre. The body is charred, blackened, burned beyond recognition, but there's a catgator strung up next to it. A soldier keeps poking it, laughing as it twitches in the aftershocks of death.

She shouldn't be able to say for sure but–_she knows she knows she knows. _

_Uncle Bo. It's Uncle Bo. _

The beast in her snaps, latches onto her soul with an unbreakable bite. It's teeth are iron and they click and groan as they sink into her, filling her with a pain so bright that it fills her entire being. She grips her head and bows, forehead hitting damp ground.

"Hands on the ground, you savage piece of shit!"

The ground shakes and wind surges through the still swamp.

Light floods her vision.

A scream bubbles in her throat.

The world explodes.

**v.**

It takes the rest of the boat's crew somewhere near two hours to reach shore.

Bumi can't stop bouncing his leg and Himiko begins to follow Kei's example and bends the water around the boat.

She'd wanted to leave them behind and follow the Avatar herself but memories of her tongue being cut out holds her back. They'll need all of them–four masters in their own element–to stop the Fire Nation. There's a renewed sense of urgency in them now as they struggle to reach Kei.

Mela is awfully quiet. Bumi can tell she's thinking about her own home, which was reduced to a crumbling relic from another time. Her concern for Kei is a tangible thing that breathes life into all of their efforts, doubling them as the swamp inches toward them. She even helps Himiko, too, and keeps bending the wind to push them forward despite the obvious exhaustion on her face.

Takashi steers the ship, his sturdy _katana_ swinging at his side. He's been quiet, too, but Bumi knows it's more out of irritation than concern. He'd wanted to follow direct orders and take Kei straight to Ba Sing Se for protection while they figured out how to handle the Fire Lord. He's never liked the swordmaster but the White Lotus sent him and he's a damn good fighter. So long as his opinions don't harm Kei, Bumi will let his attitude slide.

Nearly an hour after Kei dives off the boat, a strong shockwave of air blows out of the swamp and thousands of birds take flight. The sky grows dark for a moment, then lightens as they pass through the sun.

Bumi squints his eyes, watches as the trees bow from a central source of power. They snap back into place, look like nothing happened. But there's a charge in the air, like the fizz of electricity before a thunderstorm.

He lets loose a breath. Himiko's ocean eyes swing toward him and the two old friends share a silent understanding. Fear and sadness split his heart in equal measure.

There's only one bender in the world with the capability to create an explosion like that.

_Is she okay?_

They follow the path of destruction. Men are tied up by vines, eyes swollen and bloodshot with blood leaking from their ears. They pass the village and see Kei's home in cinders. There are corpses everywhere and Bumi wonders if Kei's parents are among them. There's an untouched doll on the ground, sticks and cotton bound together by twine; Bumi picks it up and pockets it.

Finally, the carnage leads them to the great banyan-grove tree that the natives worshipped.

Kei sits at the base.

Her arms are wrapped around her knees, her head lowered. Scorch marks mar the tree behind her and the first level of branches are black and curled. A ring of Fire Nation soldiers surrounds her, but they're face down in deep mud. Their chests do not rise or fall.

Bumi approaches her cautiously. His three companions stay behind and carefully watch. Though none of them will say it, they're all afraid that one wrong move will set her off again. The Avatar State is a precarious thing, easily triggered by emotions of this depth, and there's nothing else that could've wrought this kind of carnage.

He crouches in front of his student, seeking her eyes out.

There's a slight tremor to her shoulders. It grows until he sees that she's heaving with sobs that steal the air from her lungs.

_That's it. _

Bumi scoops her up into a hug, sinking into the ground, placing her in his lap. His strokes her hair as she wails, desperately trying to comfort her. But there's no comforting someone who's lost everything in seconds.

He meets Mela's gaze over Kei's shoulder. Her eyes are watery and focused wholly on the young Avatar. She knows better than anyone else what Kei's going through.

Bumi hopes she'll be able to help Kei heal because the girl he's holding to his chest–she's not the same girl who bound him to a tree five years ago.

Carefully, he picks up her with his arms locked under her legs and back and carries her back to the ship the way a parent would their child. He makes sure to block her eyes when they pass the village–not that he really needs to; her eyes are screwed shut as she continues sobbing–and presses her head against his chest so she can't hear leftover flames crackling, only the steady thump of his heart.

**vi.**

They sail north along the coast until they reach a river that will take them inland towards Ba Sing Se.

Kei locks herself in her cabin, the same one she awoke in.

Mela and Himiko bring her food and leave it outside the barricaded door but it's been untouched for days now.

Bumi wants to break the door down but Mela warns him against it.

"She needs time to process what's happened. Give it another few days before you force your way in."

Bumi frowns. "She needs food and water."

"The water is always gone when we retrieve the food. A week without food will harm her less than forcing our way to her right now."

The earthbender tries again but Mela raises a stern hand. Despite being his junior, she commands him with an authority that reminds him of his mother and stops him in his tracks.

If he weren't so concerned for Kei, he'd laugh heartily at himself for this.

"We all process differently. I can sense Kei's spiritual energy and she just needs time. Trust me on this, Bumi."

**vii.**

"I don't understand why this is happening to me. What have I done to deserve this? I feel like… I can't do anything right. Everyone I come into contact with suffers."

Aang sits before her. His hands lay idly in his lap and his face shows nothing but concern for his predecessor.

She looks awful and she knows it. She cleaned herself after the battle in the swamp, scrubbing away the filth until her skin was red and raw, but she still feels dirty. Her eyes are red and her hands shake even when they lay still by her sides. Purple moons claim the space under her eyes and her lips and nails are bloody from chewing on them. Whatever weight she'd managed to gain during the journey from the Boiling Rock to the Foggy Swamp is long gone. Her grief has become a corporeal being that feeds off her soul.

"Sometimes, there are no reasons for the things that happen to us," Aang says slowly. "Sometimes, bad things happen to us just because."

"How am I supposed to overcome this?" She sucks in a wobbly breath and wipes at her face with the back of her hand. "How am I supposed to live with knowing that I am the reason all these people have died?"

"I understand–"

"I don't think you do! Jiro is dead because of me. My entire tribe, my whole family, is dead because of me. Kamiko's tongue was cut out _because of me._ I killed hundreds of men when I entered the Avatar State. And even though they were there to hurt my family, I can't help but wonder how many of them were like Jiro's brother. How many of them had families who will rightfully blame me for destroying their lives?"

Aang sighs. She knows he wants to say more and she knows she's being difficult but she's struggling so hard to justify and rationalize the whys and hows of her situation. Kei's grasping at straws, grasping at her sanity as it slips further and further away.

"When I had to choose between living and dying, I didn't understand why it happened to me either, Kei. It wasn't fair that I was twelve years old and my only crime was being born. Sozin didn't have a good reason. No explanation can ever or will ever justify what's happened to us." The airbender looks at Kei, who's dissolved into silent tears, and frowns. "You need rest. Sleep. We'll talk tomorrow."

**viii.**

"It's all your fault!" she screams. Her palms slaps the floor and the sting keeps her grounded in this reality.

The dragon-beard man watches her steadily. He's translucent, far less tangible than he'd been during her adolescence.

Kei points an accusatory finger that trembled with rage. Her teeth grind against each other and her jaw pops. "If you had just _done your job_, everyone would be okay. The airbenders would be alive. Aang would be alive. _My family would still be here._"

Roku remains silent.

"Why are you even here, Roku? You abandoned me in the prison. You left me to rot like I meant nothing. Do you even feel guilty about what your actions have done? The mess _I _have been left to deal with?"

Silence.

"_Answer me!"_

"Are you finished?"

Kei breaths harshly through her nose like an angry sabre-tooth moose lion. She nods her head once.

"You needed to learn what it was like to truly be alone. You needed to understand what it means to be the Avatar. It's no easy task, Kei. You alone are the bridge between worlds. You _alone_ can bring balance back to the world. Aang and I are long gone. Our time has passed and if it weren't for your connection to the banyan-grove tree you would've grown up without us as your constant companions like every other Avatar before you. Most Avatars only ever have access to us when they meditate and call upon us. Had we stayed with you the entire time, it would've blinded you to the lesson you needed to learn there."

She turns her head, looking down to avoid looking directly at him. Instead she looks at the furniture she's broken in her rage and the ripped sheets and blankets. Fury races through her but it has outlet so it fizzles out like a trapped flame. "Which was?"

"You carried yourself through one of the worst things a person can endure–_alone_. You survived the beatings and the torture. You stopped them from raping you even when you should have been helpless. You healed your wounds even when you were bound and exhausted. And even when you'd been held at the merciless of Fire Nation soldiers for months, _you_ who had the capacity to see past their brutality and love one of them. Not Aang. Not me. Not any of us. _You_."

"Aang was there. He helped me survive."

Roku shakes his head. "He gave you access to our knowledge, our memories. It was always you. The Avatar travels a lonely path. We take on what is unbearable and we endure it. Not because we are stronger or better than anyone else. But because we must.

"What happened to your tribe happened to millions of airbenders. It happened to Aang. It happened to Mela. Accept what happened to you and use it to focus on what needs to be done. Understand that you alone can bring balance. Understand that being the Avatar means sacrifices that most would be incapable of making."

**ix.**

"We've never spoken before but my name is Kei."

Kyoshi smiles, amused. Her red, white, and black paint is vivid even in her spiritual form. "I know who you are. Raava connects us."

She frowns. "Oh. Well, I've spoken to Aang and Roku already. But I was just hoping that maybe you could give me perspective."

As a young girl, long before she even knew she was the Avatar, she'd learned more about Avatar Kyoshi than any of the other incarnations. She'd suffered great losses as a girl that should have broken anyone. She'd been abandoned and used, mocked and betrayed. She'd had everything taken from her just like Kei had. And yet she went on to liberate their nation from Chin the Conqueror and reigned over two-hundred and thirty years of world peace, which was more than she could say for herself or her two predecessors. If anyone could teach her how to be strong and defeat an evil man, it'd be her.

"I'll provide what I can."

Kei looked at her fisted hands sitting in the lap of her crossed legs. The cuticles were still red but were in better shape than they had been when she talked to Aang a few days ago.

"Aang and Roku have both advised acceptance. In order to do my duty as the Avatar, I have to accept that my family is dead and move on. And I don't think I'm ready for that. I don't think I'm capable of it. I can't even leave this room without breaking down into tears. But I can't stay here forever and lick my wounds. I know that. People need me. The _world _needs me. But how do I put myself back together? How do I live with this?"

The painted woman hums in understanding and it occurs to Kei that an Avatar so widely known for her ferocity and iron will should be less… comforting. Here with Kyoshi, Kei doesn't feel like the other woman pitied her like Aang did or patronized her like Roku. Kyoshi simply is.

"The Air Nomads teach a philosophy revolving around core values of inner peace and acceptance. Aang was a boy when he passed into the Spirit World. He hadn't yet learned that the Avatar can never be at peace nor can we be at balance. It is our job to maintain this world's balance and many of us have sacrificed our own bodies and minds to fulfill this purpose. Roku was a stubborn man. He let his feelings for Sozin stop him from doing what needed to be done. He maintained the balance in his heart and in doing so he damned the airbenders.

"You do not need balance inside yourself to be the Avatar, Kei. You don't need to accept what Sozin has done to your people. You're angry? You're in pain? _Use it. _Draw from it. Let it fuel your focus. Don't find acceptance. Find closure. Force Sozin to face what his actions have wrought. You are a force of nature, the spirit of the world in a mortal body. Only justice will bring the peace you seek."

**x.**

On the eighth day, she leaves her cabin.

Kei bends down and picks up the plate of food left by her door. The rice is still warm and she eats it with her hands as she walks down the hallway. She follows the sound of two low voices arguing until she finds the mess hall again.

Bumi, Mela, and Himiko all sit at the dining table. Empty plates of food sit in front of them. They don't notice her in the doorway.

"We need a plan," says Bumi. "With Sozin dead, his son is only going to escalate the war. I have a feeling this attack was Azulon's doing and not his father's."

Kei takes another step into the room.

"Sozin is dead?" she whispers.

All heads swing to face her. Bumi scoots his chair back, begins to stand, but Mela lays one hand over his and seats him again with a scathing glance.

Everyone hesitates to answer her. She frowns, doesn't like it, but she understands.

"Well?"

"Takashi received a messenger hawk. Sozin's died a few days after you left the Boiling Rock. He died in his sleep."

Kei swallows and approaches further. She pulls out an empty seat. Her brain feels like its full of cotton. The news that Sozin, the man she'd been fixated on defeating for over a third of her life, is dead should rattle her. But it doesn't. There's not even the slightest tremor in her heart.

Only icy cold determination. And perhaps a tinge of bitterness that she hadn't been the one to cruelly inflict a long and torturous death.

"What is the Fire Nation doing now?" she asks.

"Azulon is preparing for his coronation ceremony. After the attack on… your tribe, there haven't been any messages intercepted that suggest he's planning anything drastic now."

Kei snorts. "Unlikely. I heard enough about him in the Boiling Rock to know that he's not going to sit by idly, especially with his father gone. If he already had enough troops in the Earth Kingdom to attack my tribe as quickly as he did, I suspect he's planning another campaign. The regiment I eliminated was likely just the tip of the iceberg."

No one disagrees with her.

"Where's Takashi?"

"Steering the ship," Bumi says. "Why?"

"How far away are we from Serpent's Pass?"

"About a day or so."

"Good. We're not going to go any further. I have no purpose in Ba Sing Se."

Kei stands and pushes her chair back in. She moves to leave, and then pauses. "Himiko, do we have any white paint?"

The waterbender nods, albeit confused, and leaves the room for a moment. When she returns, she places a small jar in Kei's hand.

Mela makes a noise, a small indignant cry. "What's in Serpent's Pass?" she asks.

Himiko arches an eyebrow and places her forehead in her palm.

Bumi sighs and leans back. "A pesky reptile, that's what."

**xxxiv.**

Kei climbs over slippery rocks covered with salt and moss. Himiko accompanies her while the rest of her team waits on the boat.

Below them, a lake shimmers in the bright spring sun. The water is still but Kei knows something lurks under its surface. It's why she's here.

"Wait here," she tells her waterbending master once they've reached a pathway down toward the lake. Himiko crosses her arms and although she can't speak her message is easily understood. "I'll be fine." Kei points. "I'll be right down there. Within eyesight. I just don't know how agreeable he's going to be, you know. I know he won't hurt me, but I can't say anything about you."

Himiko grunts but sits down on the surface of a large boulder anyway. Her Water Tribe clothes look impossible warm and make Kei glad she's returned to wearing the simple cloth and leather wrappings she wore back home if only to gain some reprieve from the heat. _It's also a reminder of what's she's lost and why she's fighting._

She slides as she makes the last few steps to the shore. Little pebbles all shapes and sizes and colors line the bank. Kei dips to pick up a flat, pink one and flicks it into the water. It skips across the surface a few times before disappearing forever.

_Where are you? _she wonders.

Kei closes her eyes and seeks out the thin tether in the back of her mind. It's always been there but while it'd once been thick and strong, it was now frayed and weak from neglect. She reaches for the connection and when she touches it, a shiver runs up her spine.

A small smile, not one of happiness but of knowingness, crosses her face.

She brings her thumb and pointer finger to her lips and whistles one long, loud note that rings through the pass.

It's peaceful for a moment. Blue skies and clear water and a soft breeze.

Then its there, water rushing underwater, pushing and shoving past each other as something _other_ barrels toward the surface. She feels it and she bets Himiko can feel it, too.

A monstrous head breaks the mirror surface of the lake. Indigo scales glint like obsidian blades under light and its black whiskers whip back and forth as it lets out a thunderous screech. Its head is flanked by two fan like fins that are a shade of lavender and two gem eyes stare straight into her.

The serpent calms, lowers its head until it's feet away from her.

Kei reaches out her hand.

"I told you I'd come back for you, Ryuu."

* * *

_tbc._


	5. Book Two, Part IV: Water

**Synopsis:** Aang recieves a vision of the future during the storm in which he freezes himself and is presented with a choice: Envoke the Avatar State and remain frozen for one hundred years or drown and reincarnate so the next Avatar can save what remains of his people post-genocide. The choice is not easy. It takes a full cycle to bring the world to back peace.

**Author's Note:** I present to you–_the showdown that was always meant to be_. I'll keep this short because there's a section at the bottom with an author's note discussing all the juicy details of this finale. In short–thank you for coming with me this far, you rock, and if you feel so inclined, leave a review for momma so all my hard work can be validated?

IMPORTANT STORY INFORMATION: I changed some names. **KAMIKO **is now** HIMIKO**;** RENSHU** is now** TAKASHI. **Remember this as you read! I'm in the process of editing the first three parts and changing the parts where there names come up. Also, there are a few details in this that I tweaked from canon for my own purposes, one of which is Azulon's age. Supposedly, he's born 0 AG, which is the same year as Kei. I didn't think an 18-year-old boy would have had two toddler (maybe a little older) aged kids by that age. So he's born earlier than canon. Probably around the same year as Aang, which makes him Bumi's age in the story right now.

MUSIC: If you want some epic tunes to listen to while reading this, here's a couple: _Paint It, Black_ by Ciara; _Funeral March_ by 2WEI; _See What I've Become_ by Zack Hemsey; _Bring Me Back to Life_ by Ht Bristol, Charlie Bannister, Vincent Steele, and Nine One One; and _Un Nouveau Soleil_ by M83

* * *

**BOOK TWO: WATER  
PART IV  
**_AVATAR KEI_

_Do monsters make war or does war make monsters?_

**i.**

Ryuu looks like a solar eclipse with the noon sun at his back, a blot of fearsome darkness ready to attack at his master's command. The sea serpent hovers over the boat, close enough that Mela can feel the disturbance his whiskers make in the air as they twitch. His forked tongue flicks out every so often, tasting the air, as his thin eyes flit from person to person, searching for potential threats.

"Well, he's certainly gone through a growth spurt," Bumi mumbles. The earthbender strokes the making of a beard and watches Ryuu with more curiosity than fear. Mela thinks he's insane. She's terrified of the sea serpent–definitely _not_ curious.

Kei shrugs her slight shoulders. Her body is angled toward her guide, seeking the reassurance and protection he provides her. This is the most relaxed Mela's seen her since she met the girl.

_Not relaxed. Something else. Self-assured, maybe. Or resigned._

"I never really thought about how big he'd be when he was fully grown. For as long as I can remember, he was just big enough to carry across my shoulders." Kei bites her thumbnail. "I think being allowed to swim freely over the last year gave him the chance to grow. He was on dry land and really sick when I first found him as a kid. That must've slowed or stunted him until I returned him to deeper waters."

Bumi snorts. "Well, there's nothing stunted about him now."

As if in agreement, Ryuu hisses and flicks his tail out of the water before he slammed it back down. It cracks like a whip against air. The boat rocks as waves ripple through the otherwise calm waters. Mela tries not to wince and run for her glider.

Takashi stands next to her and scowls at Ryuu with distaste. Of course, there's the possibility that he's simply observing the snake because the man constantly looks like he's just been impaled with his own blade.

"He's not going to be able to come with us to Ba Sing Se." Takashi crosses his arms. "He's too big."

Kei narrows those stone-like eyes into slits. She looks like her pet snake. The Avatar and Takashi hadn't gotten along since… well, since they'd first met. The man was order and discipline born into a human body and Kei was a force of nature who laughed away his attempts at control like he was an annoying fruit fly.

"I told you. We're not going to Ba Sing Se. I have no purpose there."

Takashi's upper lip curls. "You need recovery. _Guidance_. Time to master airbending and the Avatar State. You're hardly more than a child. You don't know what your purpose is."

"Sozin is dead. Azulon has more than likely been crowned Fire Lord at this point and he's planning something in the Earth Kingdom. I don't have time for that. Mela can train me as we go and I've already entered the Avatar State once. I'm pretty sure I can access if I need to."

"Access is one thing. _Control_ is another," the swordmaster hisses.

Kei's three bending teachers do not intervene in the conflict. They stand back and watch as, once again, the man tries to tame the hurricane of a girl. It's an impossible task that Takashi never accomplishes but repeatedly attempts anyway. Mela can feel Kei's timeless soul crackling, her spiritual presence growing as she angers. Bumi's mouth is quirked and Himiko seems unphased. The aggression makes Mela nervous.

"If you don't want to come with us, by all means, _leave_. Go to Ba Sing Se where you can hide behind its walls in your fancy house and allow your servants to cater to your every need. Grow old and soft and fat while the world starves and suffers. I, however, cannot and _will not_ be coddled while Azulon is still in power. I have a duty to the world that comes before any of my own personal needs or wants. Anyone with a semblance of _honor_ would know that."

It's a low blow to deliver upon a man who'd lived in the Fire Nation his entire life until the Air Nomad genocide. While he'd branched from his country in political ideas, his cultural roots obviously still ran deep. A muscle in Takashi's jaw ticks and his fingers twitch for his blade. If they were in the Fire Nation, the Avatar's words would've been grounds for a duel. There's a moment of tension where Kei dares him–to speak out at her again, to question her choice one more time, to unsheathe his _katana_ and attack.

But Takashi relaxes, simply nods once, a quick downward pull of his chin that Mela almost misses. The swordmaster submits and his posture deflates.

"Good," Kei says and turns to her airbending teacher. "Now tell me what you know about the bending prisons."

**ii.**

"Here, here, and here." Mela enunciates each word with her pointer finger on a map, circling areas on the paper with the brush in her free hand. "Earthbenders were taken on metal barges to the western side of the archipelago where they're completely cut off from bending material. Waterbenders are kept on an island near the center where it's hotter and drier in facilities that are designed to nullify their bending. I've never seen the water prisons in person but we got the information from an intercepted messenger hawk a couple months before we were caught, too."

"And the remaining airbenders?" asks Kei, intently watching her tutor as she lays out where the Fire Nation has hidden away pieces of the world.

"I don't entirely know. We figured somewhere underground to help offset their own bending but none of the unpopulated islands are high enough at sea level to accommodate a prison like that. And the colonies are too unstable and new to keep prisoners of that value there. I thought they'd be at the Boiling Rock but your companion said there were none when I asked during our correspondence."

Kei sighs and bites the inside of her lip. Jiro crosses her mind again, which is hardly a surprise. The man she loved dominated her thoughts most days, having taken up a place right next to the memories of her family and tribe. She'd only known him in the prison and while they'd shared every bit of information about one another, she now wondered if he'd be different here on the ship where he didn't have to worry about the warden or other guards. What would he think of her plans? How would he change them? Would the hope bleed from his eyes when she told him she wasn't even strong enough to save her own tribe?

"There's a series of tunnels under the Fire Nation capital," a voice says suddenly, a piece of clarity in the dark. It snaps Kei from her black hole of a mind and reminds her to stay focused on the now. She raises an eyebrow when she sees who it is. Takashi, though unhappy-looking as ever, strides into the mess hall, which has been turned into a mock war room. "It was built as a safety bunker for the Royal Family in the event of a siege. There's plenty of space to turn it into a prison and it's close enough for the Fire Lord to keep a close eye on. If I were going to imprison a large group of airbenders, it's where I would keep them."

Kei hums and smiles gratefully at the final member of her team. Then she studies the map a little more, considering it.

"I think you're right."

The Avatar gestures for Mela to hand her the brush and she does. Kei dips it in the black ink again and pauses before she draws a line from their location to the group of markings near the earth prisons and then connects it to the water prisons.

"We need numbers if we're going to free the airbenders. We're all skilled but five masters and a sea serpent still isn't enough to lay waste to the capital. I say I free the earthbenders using Ryuu and some juiced up waterbending and then with the numbers we gain from that we free the waterbenders as a collective group. We give them a choice to follow us to the capital and take a month to prepare for those who stay with us. Build ships, provide combat training, whatever is needed. Then on the next full moon, we attack."

"What makes you think the benders will follow us?" Takashi asks. It's a simple enough inquiry but Mela's surprise doubles when she finds zero contempt in it. Takashi seems to have forgone his original goals with the White Lotus and exchanged them for loyalty to Kei.

"They've been taken from their homes. Beaten. Starved. Tortured. I've been in their position. It's hard to imagine rebelling if you're alone but when someone gives you the hope you need, it's easy to find the strength to fight back. Some will choose to go home, yes, but I think most will realize that their safety will always be temporary with Sozin's bloodline on the throne."

"And you'll lead them?"

Kei nods, her hands braced on the table. "Yes."

"And what of your strength? You may not be going to Ba Sing Se to recover but you have to admit that you are in no shape to take Azulon and his armies head on. Something needs to change."

Mela clears her throat. "If I may, Takashi–there's a technique airbenders used to restore strength when nomads returned from a long fast. My sisters and I often performed it on one another while traveling when we had to go weeks without food. We only used it as a last resort since it's a painful process but I think with a mixture of it and Himiko's healing abilities, we should be able to get Kei back to a starting point to rebuild muscle mass and endurance."

Takashi's forehead wrinkles, mouth parted in a protest. "You didn't learn it from a master? How confident are you in such a high-level bending technique?"

Biting her lip, Mela considers it. "I didn't learn it from an experienced master. But I've used it enough to know what I'm doing. I've been on the receiving end more than once. She won't be in any danger. I can't say the same for pain."

"Then let's do it. When can we start?"

Mela sighs. "Tomorrow. We'll need our rest."

**iii.**

Kei's heart flutters in her chest. She's laying on her back, her arms and legs strapped down with leather. There's a thick piece of it shoved in between her teeth, too, for good measure. No need to add cracked teeth to her list of ailments if it can be avoided.

Bumi is holding her hand to her right while Mela and Himiko hover over her. Kei feels dizzy as she watches her reflection waver in their eyes. She'd endured plenty of pain in the prison but it was a different kind. It'd never gone deeper than the surface. Mela would be reaching inside her, chasing away the death and decay, pushing vitality into her muscles.

"Are you ready?" asks Mela in that soft voice of hers that still reaches every corner of the room.

Kei jerks her head down once. Her fingers curl around Bumi's hand and she squeezes until her knuckles are stiff.

Mela breathes deeply, finds a source of balance in herself, before she begins. Her arms move smoothly in circles and arcs that bleed into one another. It's a push and pull that reminds Kei of the northern healing techniques. A slight breeze picks up in the room before it runs up and over Kei's form and disappears in her mouth.

For a moment Kei thinks that Mela was mistaken. While she feels a hum beginning to build in her body, it's not entirely unpleasant. In fact, she could fall asleep soundly to the sudden warmth flooding her body. _She's been so cold for so long…._

And then it hits. Her body convulses, pulling against the leather straps as Mela begins to draw the death out of her body. Her jaw locks down on the leather strap. Vaguely, she hears Bumi swear as she crushes his hand to dust.

It's not like anything else she'd experienced. Not like the whipping, which she easily grew numb to. Not like the water-boarding, which had centralized in her chest and left the rest of her floating in the void. It was like she was growing, the way a child does through its younger adolescent years, but it was all being shoved into seconds, minutes of development. Every muscle curled and shriveled only to spring back to life and repeat the process of being broken down and reborn again.

There's a hand on her forehead brushing away hair as tears form in her eyes. A scream has been caught in her throat, stopped by the leather she bites down on, and a long shudder runs through her. She sees Himiko and her worried frown above her. Words are being spoken but she can't focus long enough to decipher what they are.

Kei's eyes sinch shut. In her own darkness, she can see a faint blue glow and then the fire dancing along every nerve is cooled like it's been doused in icy water from the South Sea.

She can feel her head lull to the side, heavy like a bag of rocks. Still feels her hand in Bumi's, feels the weight of another on her forehead.

Exhaustion grips her tightly and pulls her under before she can even let out the softest of protests.

**iv.**

Kei remains unconscious for the better part of four days while Mela and Himiko take turns correcting the injuries piled on top of each other over the last year. Aside from pulling muscles from the brink of atrophy, there's cracked bones and nerve damage that need tending to as well. Plenty of damage in the tissue of her lungs, too, and there are fine shards of bone that float around in the flesh of her wrists and ankles, no doubt a result of her being strung up.

Together, they heal everything they can. Himiko knows Kei isn't in the same condition she'd been in when they left Hira'a but it's legions beyond what she'd been dragged into their boat after the Boiling Rock.

Himiko brushes hair from the young girl's forehead and leaves a kiss there. She'd never been able to have children of her own–being a combat-trained waterbender in the northern tribe hadn't exactly opened up many marriage opportunities–but this girl was what she imagined her children would be like if she'd had them. Cheeky, stubborn, full of life.

Kei's heart is too big for her body. This, Himiko knows. Too big for a girl who's destined to restore order to an evil and cruel world.

As she clutches the girl's hand, watching as nightmares chase her in her sleep, Himiko only hopes it won't get her in trouble.

The heart is the weakest point in the body. Always.

**v.**

"How are you feeling?"

Kei flexes her fingers, drawing each one to their full length before curling them inward. She makes a fist, squeezes as hard as she can until her knuckles are pink and white. The realization that she can even clench her fist dawns on her like a sunrise full of color–reds, oranges, yellows, not at all soft and entirely the shade of war.

She finds that she feels satisfied, though not for the right reasons. She's not happy she can move again because it's one step closer to recovery. No, she's happy because it means she's that much closer to watching the life drain from Azulon's eyes. One step closer to taking the justice she is owed for the death of her tribe and the cruel torture she'd endured. _And for taking Jiro from me when I needed him the most._

"Better," she murmurs, glancing up to meet her airbending master's inquisitive stare. Kei takes catalog of the muscles in her body that she'd forgotten were there. They're sore, but she feels like she now has a control and strength over her own body that had been lost since she was chained. "I… haven't felt like this in a long time. I didn't realize how weak I'd been until my strength was restored."

Mela chuckles and tucks a piece of hair behind her ear. "I wouldn't go as far to say that you're back in tip-top shape, but you're looking much better. Bumi's going to fix what we couldn't with what I imagine he'll call tough love."

The Avatar cracks a half-hearted smile. "I can't wait."

**v.**

Mela was right. Bumi does douse her in his fair share of tough love, even laughs while she's buried elbow deep in rubble and rock dust. When they dock for supplies near Mount Makkapu and the Wulong Forest, he corrects forgotten technique and rebuilds her stamina. At first he only lets her earthbend but eventually they work up to spars that employ all the elements. (This part reminds her most of her old self. She'd never been able to separate earth from water from air as a girl and slipping in mud that's neither this nor that sparks a small ember of nostalgia in her.)

Himiko and Mela were able to clear the rot out of her body, but that didn't mean they could entirely restore who she'd been before the Boiling Rock. She was still weak, a little unstable on her feet and unsure of her instincts, but Bumi was determined to beat it out of her.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were my grandma," he sings, cackling as he slides into another stance that sends two rocks careening at her from opposite directions. She dips to avoid one and throws her arms up to break through the other. Her chest heaves as she skids forward and swings her right leg around to rip a chunk of earth out in a move more akin to a fire kick. It misses Bumi by a whole foot. "I take it back. My grandma could bend you into the ground with _only_ her pinky! You're gonna let an old dog like me toss you around?"

Kei lets out a breathless chuckle. There's some undergrowth near the clearing he deemed suitable for sparring and she reaches for it, twisting it out to wrap around one of his legs while she rushes forward and lets loose an airblast. It hits him squarely in the chest and Bumi flies back and disappears in the bushes only to arise grinning, a rouge twig sticking from that unruly hair.

While Bumi claims her when they're on dry ground, Mela and Himiko dominate her training when they sail. Her airbending has improved by leaps and bounds, almost on par with earth and fire, though she doubted it'd ever reach her waterbending.

It amazes her how quickly she'd regained her native element. She and Himiko would often freeze pieces of the water they sailed next to and spar on it, moving through phase changes and water whips. Sometimes they fought underneath the surface of the water, using the resistance to help build her strength again. Though there were no plants to bend out on the open ocean aside from the stray clump of seaweed, she found that her own unique style hadn't suffered much when she used it to beat Bumi up when earthbending was inadequate.

Manipulating vines and twisting and controlling them wasn't the same as bending free-flowing water. The element was hidden away by layers of sap and sinew and, more importantly, it came from a source that was alive. It'd been hard to learn but ultimately she preferred bending plants whenever she could to anything else.

Maybe her swamp roots were what had led her to be the bender she was. Asserting her control over something with life wasn't easy. Taking the perseverance it'd required to learn swampbending into her training with the other elements had been her saving grace. And now, it appeared, it was guiding her to her newest goal.

Defeat Azulon. Save the world. Find some kind of peace, preferably of the inner kind.

_Easier said than done._

Bumi, now recovered, stomps down and a large boulder rises. Crushing it into smaller pieces, he sends them flying toward her at an impossible speed. Kei cocks a smirk, falls into her airbending footwork and dodges every blow.

**vi.**

When the bending prison is little more than a dot on the horizon, Takashi drops the boat's anchor and they make the final preparations.

Bumi straps supple armor to her chest and thighs that bares the symbol of the swamp tribe on her bicep. He'd had them made for her a couple weeks ago when they were still in Earth Kingdom territory. Her arms and legs are left bare for better mobility and Himiko helps style her hair so it stays out of the way during combat. She pulls it back per Kei's instructions in a fashion common among the swamp warriors. Rows of braids sear against the sides of her scalp and feed into a high tail that's held up with a braided piece of leather. Mela runs through the plan with her again while they prepare her armor and Kei listens intently despite having heard them at least a hundred times before.

When she's ready to go, bow and quiver strapped across her back with waterskins at her sides, she hesitates for one final preparation.

In her room, she digs out the jar of white paint she'd had Himiko fetch for her before they retrieved Ryuu. She dips two fingers in it and looks down into the small bowl of water she'd left unfinished from breakfast.

Kei drags the white paint across her cheeks and forehead and moves onto her body where skin is left bare, forming thick lines and shapes that draw attention to the scars that decorate her brown skin.

When she's finished, Kei inspects her handiwork. She'd meant to replicate the paint the warriors donned when they left for a hunt but somehow ended up with a pattern more like the ones they wore for the harvest festival. A stranger stares up at her. Kei tries to find traces of the girl eager to dance in the village center or squash purple berries beneath her feet. When that fails, she searches for the one who'd been eager to assume her role as Avatar, the one with a bright laugh and a soft smile.

She's gone, too.

The white paint sharpens her already jagged features until they're deadly enough to kill with a single look. Two pieces of jade reflect in her eyes, ready to slice down anything that might stand in her way. She imagines what she'd look like in the Avatar State–even more terrifying, most likely; an unforgiving force of nature with the might of hundreds of other Avatars behind her.

She understands why Kyoshi wore the paint, too.

Somehow, the fear and pain she'd felt before has melted away. She's a different girl, a different person, ready to wreak havoc on the world's evil. Nothing can touch her. Nothing can stop her.

On the top deck, she hugs her mentors, Mela, Bumi, and Himiko. Kei shares a firm handshake and a locked look of understanding with Takashi who, despite his initial reservations, had headed the strategy of her campaign against the Fire Nation.

"Stay safe, squirt. I'm not done kicking your behind," Bumi murmurs, brushing her cheek with his patchy facial hair.

Kei squeezes him back. "Don't worry. I'll be fine."

With that, she steps closer to the ledge of the boat and lets out a long whistle with her thumb and pointer finger between her lips. It takes a moment, water rippling past water, before Ryuu lifts his giant head from below.

He levels it with her, stares her down with black eyes, before turning to the side. She shakes her shoulders out and makes a running leap to climb onto his back.

Ryuu's scales are wet and slimy beneath her thighs and dig into her hands as she crawls up to grip one of the spines on his back for stability.

Kei draws in a breath. _It's okay. You've practiced this. He's not going to hurt you. He's your spirit guide for crying out loud._ She clicks her tongue twice. _Click-clack._ Ryuu's body coils beneath her before he lets loose a screech and dives back below the water, barreling toward the ship just over the horizon.

She barely has time to react. With a sloppy twirl of her free arm, she bends an air bubble that allows her to breath and stay dry while Ryuu shoots through the water like a hawk slices through the air.

Ryuu's body bunches under her and stretches out as each powerful sway of his tail rockets him forward, a mix of sheer power and natural bending. Tui and La were the original waterbenders but sea serpents had to have been some of the first to learn from them. Ryuu hadn't ever really shown much control over water when he'd been with her as a child but their year apart had allowed him to develop in more than just size.

When they'd practiced riding earlier that week, Ryuu had shown her what he could do with water. And it was amazing–terrifying and highly destructive, but amazing nonetheless.

Ryuu swims close enough to the surface for her to momentarily poke her head out and see how close they are. The prison has grown from a speck to the size of her fist.

"Just a little further, boy," she says and they dive back under.

**vii.**

How Jun Li drew the short stick and ended up guarding a ship full of earthbending savages was beyond him. He hadn't gone to the Royal Naval Academy and trained in evasion and siege techniques for _nearly five years_ just to be tossed into the middle of the damn ocean.

Half of the ship's population is outside in the yard, milling around like phantoms with no purpose. The other half wait in their cell for a glimpse of the red western sky. Jun Li watches them, makes sure none of them kill each other in a restless fight or try to dive over the side for an escape. Not that they'd get very far. Earthbenders weren't exactly known for their superb swimming abilities.

_Serves them right, defying the Fire Nation like that._

Jun Li grunts and stalks down the catwalk that runs above the yard. Back and forth and back. This is what five years of the world's best education got him–glorified babysitting and weeks without a woman's touch.

When he reaches the far left end, he leans over to spit a mouthful of tobacco into the ocean. It's a guilty pleasure his mother hates but he figures he's entitled to at least one vice out here and what his mother doesn't know won't kill her. The sticky clump makes a quick descent into the waves where something sharp flares before disappearing.

The guard turns, goes to make another lap, before it strikes him. His body tenses and switches from bored to alert but before he can yell, before he can even make a step, a monstrous beast bursts through the water near the hull of the ship. It roars and the metal beneath him quakes.

Screams echo through the yard like falling dominos. The guard stumbles back a few feet, clutches the railing behind his back. The Naval Academy doesn't prepare you for _this_.

A figure blasts off the back of the snake to an inhuman height with what looks like no effort. It takes a slow moment for Jun Li to recognize it for what it is. Airbending. And when the figure uses jets of fire to control their descent, he's five seconds from jumping overboard and swimming for shore.

The Naval Academy most definitely _does not_ prepare you to fight the Avatar.

From the catwalk, her white face paint glows and her expression is hard enough to bring empires to their knees. She's got her fists clenched at her sides and steam rises from her back like ghostly wings.

Prisoners who had scrambled to get away from her now stare with wonder. Guards flood the catwalk and the yard, hands poised for attack. The sea serpent snorts hot air through his nose and bares a row of deadly teeth when one man gets to close.

"You have two choices: Let the prisoners go free right now and I'll allow you to return safely to your homes," she calls out. "Or you can choose to stay and fight me, but I'll destroy you and the prisoners will still go free."

There's a collective inhale on the ship. Neither option truly seems like a good one. Face dishonor at home for abandoning their nation or die brutally at the hands of a vengeful Avatar.

It seems they all come to the same conclusion when the man closest to the Avatar steps forward with a fire fist that nearly singes the girl's eyebrows off.

A laugh, loud and cruel, echoes through the open air. The prisoners cower in any corner they can find. This girl certainly isn't the merciful Roku they'd all known all those years ago.

"Destruction it is then."

**viii.**

Kei disables the first guard by ducking under a high kick and grabbing his arm. She rips it behind his back, relishing in the loud _pop!_ of the joint dislocating. With a quick swing of her arm, she air blasts the writhing body overboard and moves onto her next target. She doesn't have time to pause and wonder or even feel sorry for hurting the faceless man.

There's a mission to be completed, a balance to be achieved. Kyoshi's voice rips through her mind. U_se your pain and anger. Wear them proudly like battle scars._

She spins, gathering a rope of water from her flasks, and twists it around her body like she's using dancing ribbons. Bringing her right arm forward, she closes her fist and it quickly phases into ice. The spike impales two guards directly in front of each other and they fall in a heap of mutilated skin and bone.

The water returns to her, reddish in color, but she doesn't bother separating the blood from the mixture. It bends just the same as the water she pulls from plants, which is usually still thick with sap.

By the time she's taken down at least ten men, the guards realize that they have no chance of defeating her if they attack her singularly. They surround her in a circle with a wide circumference and take turns blasting her with bright orange fire.

Her training with Himiko and Mela kicks in and she dodges and redirects, turns their bending against them instead of wasting her chi. Bodies fall around her, crumpling in burnt and broken piles.

A guard at her side manages to land a blow on her arm that sears and eats at her flesh. The pain is blinding but Kei pushes it down and takes him out with a tentacle from her octopus form.

Ryuu's loud roar sings in time with the beating of her heart. It's the vicious thrum of war drums and Kei uses it to keep herself one maneuver ahead of her enemies. He spits water down at the guards who dare attack him or get too close to laying a hit on his master. Sea water gathers around Kei's ankles and she uses it to bend a cocoon of ice around her. It's a momentary reprieve for her to catch her breath, which are heavy white clouds inside her polar cage.

She's definitely stronger, more confident in her abilities than she's been in a long time, but she's fighting at a break-neck speed and the blistering burn on her arm is proof she can't keep it up alone for long. She needs help. She needs to get the prisoners earth to fight with.

Water drips from the top as the firebenders melt away the shell. Kei braces herself against the ice and closes her eyes.

A fat droplet of water falls on her forehead as she searches inwardly at a frantic pace. _Come on come on come on–_

Her body jerks as something _other_ rushes in to take control of her limbs. She feels her consciousness retreat to the corner of her mind and she suddenly feels so far away and very small.

The water melts away with a single tug of her arms–_are they hers? They don't look like it. They're longer and covered in green silk she doesn't ever remember wearing_–and the men stumble away when she lets it drop to the ground.

_"Avatar Kyoshi!"_ a prisoner shouts, pointing at the painted woman whose eyes glow like a dying star. If they'd been amazed at meeting Kei, then seeing the legendary Earth Avatar was ethereal.

Kei–_or is she Kyoshi or both?_–doesn't warrant it with a response. With the bronze metal fans in her hands, she knocks back the ring of soldiers with an air blast that roars in their ears. Her red mouth is set hard as she stomps and unfurls her crossed arms, reaching deep down to the ocean floor, searching and seizing.

Two large monoliths jerk out of the sea on each side of the prison boat, which rocks as the waves crash all around them. With the pillars risen, she rips two large chunks toward her and splits them in half. Four equal pieces of stone rotate around her body and with a final burst of strength from the Avatar State, she slams them into the groups of soldiers surrounding her. The light fades and her body jerks one more time as something _other_ leaves her body.

Kei gasps, weak and shaky all over as the possession ends and her own mind regains control. She falls to her knees, her arms barely supporting her as she struggles to reorient herself.

"Now! Attack her _now_!"

She can feel the heat of their flame drawing closer as they unleash an inferno on her, but she can't get herself to move.

_Get up, Kei. You need to get up–_

She raises her head, sees the fireball racing toward her, and lifts an arm to try and redirect it.

It never reaches her.

The blast curves around a wall of stone angrily before fizzling out. Kei looks to the side.

Two men and a woman about Bumi's age stand in position, their stance wide with their fists closed.

The woman nods at her and Kei manages a feeble, grateful smile. Someone drags her to her feet by her underarms and lightly slaps the sides of her face. This one is a young boy, even younger than her. His brow is set with determination and his mouth moves. Kei blinks twice.

"Sorry, say that again?" she asks as the ringing in her ears finally fades and Ryuu's screech rushes in.

"What do you need us to do, Avatar?"

Kei shakes her head to rid the last of the dizziness and exhales through her mouth. "Fight back. Win your freedom. I'm going after the warden."

With their element within reach, it shouldn't be hard for so many earthbenders to overthrow the rest of the ship. Kei has already taken out the majority and she's provided them the ability to take their lives back.

She moves to enter the belly of the ship but a firm grip on her arm stops her. It's the boy. "Thank you," he says.

"You don't have to thank me. Help your people and set those still in their cells free. I'll take care of the rest."

**ix.**

"Tell me–what's so important that you deemed it necessary to interrupt my time with my sons?"

"We received a messenger hawk from the northwest bending prison."

"And?"

The messenger hands the Fire Lord a red carrier. He pops the lid off, shaking the scroll out. A small coin falls into his palm as the paper slips out. He flips the coin over in his hand. It's bronze in color with a square carved out of the center. _An Earth Kingdom yuan._

Frowning, he quickly opens the scroll.

_Your move._

**x.**

Kei conquers the water prison effortlessly.

When she emerges from its walls, the arm of an old man slung over her shoulders, she's bathed red with the blood of her enemies. Her white paint smears across her skin and she's burned and covered with bruises. Her body is injured but her soul is alive, surging and pulsing with power.

_I'm the Avatar. And I will save these people._

**xi.**

Another hawk from another bending prison. Another coin. This one is blue with the symbol of the Water Tribe carved on its face. There is no note. The message is clear.

Azulon incinerates the wooden piece in his fist. "Bring me my generals," he snarls. "The Earth Kingdom falls _now_."

**xii.**

Soldiers arrive in the colonies and swarm the land like wildfire. They burn and destroy and spread. They merge with other platoons and everything they come into contact falls.

Takashi receives a messenger hawk from a White Lotus contact in Gaoling who tells him of the plague. When he shows the Avatar, she leaves the training grounds where the earthbenders and waterbenders are preparing and retreats to her tent. Her advisors are there. Himiko in her blue wraps, waterskins at her sides. Bumi in green plates, feet bare. Mela in–_finally_–robes of orange and yellow with one third of her head shaved. And Takashi in red armor with his katana at his side.

"The next full moon is in two weeks. It's just enough time to travel to the Fire Nation and attack," Mela says.

Kei slumps into a chair. She drags a hand over her face and the white paint on her face chips. (She's begun wearing it almost every day now. It's a good symbol for her warriors and it keeps the monster in her at bay.)

"It's all happening so fast… I knew it would come to this, but I still don't feel ready."

Himiko crouches in front of the girl, tucks a piece of hair that's fallen out of her tail behind her ear. She can't talk but her touch speaks for her.

"You won't be alone," Bumi says. "We'll be with you every step of the way."

Kei shakes her head. "You can't be. I have to face Azulon alone and I only trust the four of you to get the airbenders to safety. I'll do it alone. But I'll win. I have to."

Takashi steps forward. Despite their rocky beginning, he's become invaluable to her. His military training in the Fire Nation provided them much needed insight and strategy in liberating the prisons. And he'd been a constant beacon of support for her. He'd spent countless late nights planning with her, bringing her food when she forgot to eat and forcing her to bed when she'd gone too many hours without rest.

"We need to leave by the end of tomorrow if we're to make it there in time to harness the moon's power. The Earth King's shipment of armor and weapons arrived earlier today. I can dole out the resources today and finish going over attack plans with the soldiers."

Bumi clears his throat. "I'll go with you. You'll need an extra hand with them. Mela and Kei can go over her airbending and Himiko can work on getting camp closed up with the benders who aren't with us."

Kei nods absently. In two weeks, she'd be face to face with Azulon. The man who'd ordered the genocide of the swamp tribe. Who'd begun hazing the western half of the Earth Kingdom because she'd angered him. She had no idea what he looked like or how old he was or if he had a tell in combat. She didn't even know where he'd be once they landed in the capital. She was walking in blind, but what else was there to do? People were dying and she was the only one who could stop it.

"Don't worry, Kei," Mela says. "We'll get through this."

**xiii.**

Kei's sick–sick to her stomach, sick in the mind, so sick that she can hardly stand to leave her cabin during the voyage. She's killed before, did plenty of it in the swamp and bending prisons, but this feels different.

This life means something _more_. Taking this life means the end of the war. People can go home to their families and they can live their life unafraid. She's been tirelessly working toward peace for so long that she can't see what her life will become after it. So much hangs on her ability to kill one man.

Once Azulon is five feet below ground, what will that leave her with? All her advisors have duties they need to return to. Bumi is heir to Omashu's throne, Himiko plans on looking for waterbenders who'd been displaced by the war and bringing them home, Mela has an entire race of people that need her, and she knows Takashi wants nothing more than to return to the White Lotus.

Kei has nothing. No home or family to return to. No lover to welcome her home from the war. There is only her and a water serpent and he can't shake her from her nightmares.

She's all alone. There's no one to take care of her anymore.

Kei bends her head over an empty tin bucket and empties what little breakfast she'd choked down that morning.

**xiv.**

When they enter the waters surrounding the capital island, Avatar Kei paints her face white and climbs upon Ryuu's spiked back. The paint chases away her sickness but she's left feeling hollow on the inside. Her army, loaded upon a small group of boats stolen from one of the outer Fire Nation islands responsible for shipping supplies, murmurs as the water serpent rears his head with a cry and dives under the waves.

Not too long after, they sail past a mass of destruction. Pieces of metal float on the water's surface, supplies and red cloth bobbing among the wreckage.

There are other boats, other sunken masses of iron and steel. Each has been blasted to bits by water, warped by a cold fury.

It seems that not even the mighty Fire Navy can withstand the wrath of a single girl and her water serpent.

**xv.**

An army marches through the harbor, up the hill toward the gates that guard the capital. Waves still surge over the docks from the water serpent's attack. In the distance, the soldier can hear his harsh cry and the chaos of boats sinking in the bay.

He's one of the many earthbenders the Avatar liberated from the metal ships and he's here, at her request, to lay waste to the capital.

His heart pounds in his chest. Not even the earth below soothes him. It should, considering he went so long without it, but all he can think about is the firebenders past the volcano's walls and the way skin stinks when it burns. That, and his mother's face. She was ill when he was taken almost two years ago. _Is she still alive?_

The earthbender scratches at his arm, rubbing at an old burn from his first week on the iron boat, and swallows his emotions until they fill his stomach and ease the churning.

Civilians who live outside the gates are long gone. Avatar Kei allowed them to leave when the army first landed and if he looks behind him now, he'll see tiny boats littering the water. How the Avatar manages to avoid them while blowing the remaining warships to smithereens, the soldier isn't sure. But she does because she's the Avatar and he feels slightly better. He doesn't want to kill innocents. He doesn't want to kill anyone but if it means his little cousin isn't taken to an iron ship far, far away from any earth, he will.

A mass of fire races above him and the soldier tenses, reaching for the earth, before realizing it's just her–the Avatar. He looks over his shoulder. Her guide is still sweeping through the bay, keeping a careful eye on the horizon. Avatar Kei lands at the front of the marching line, just before the gates. Knees bent, flames spread from the ground she lands on before curling back into themselves. She looks like a phoenix, risen from the ashes of the Foggy Swamp.

The Avatar brings her hands behind her ramrod-straight back as she scans the troops. Even from here, he can see the sharp glint of her green eyes. He's never seen a native waterbender with eyes like that, but he recognizes the wrath of the moon and ocean all the same.

Sweat drips down the back of his neck and next to him one of his comrades breathes heavily through his nose.

"Today, we claim the Fire Nation capital," she begins. Like the first time he heard her voice, the soldier is awed by its age. The Avatar can't be any older than eighteen and yet she speaks with the depth and power of something aeons older. "I know coming here was a sacrifice that many of you were hesitant to make. You would have rather returned to your families immediately. Believe me, I understand. But each and everyone of you knew that it would be temporary. As long as Fire Lord Azulon sits on the throne, no one is safe. I will destroy Azulon and with him his reign of terror will end. We can bring balance back to the world but it will take everything we have."

The company roars and the ground rumbles and the ocean crashes against the rocks. He can feel the anger, its righteousness and justice. It grows around him, grows _in_ him, as the Avatar leaves them with one last speech. Her words are simple and while she looks like the rest of them, the soldier swears he can feel the glow in her words. Her voice fills with the depth of all her past lives.

_"Leave the innocents and the soldiers who surrender,"_ she yells and her face twists and her eyes harden. The soldier shudders at the thought of being on the other end of her gaze. _"Spare no mercy for the rest!"_

**xvi.**

Kei stands before the capital's walls. A metal gate bars her from the city. Atop the walls in the sentry posts, she can see soldiers. If she closes her eyes and seeks out their energy, she knows she'll find fear.

She's created a lot of that lately.

Her army stands alert behind her. Waterbenders and earthbenders blend together in one company. Most hadn't had any formal training until she liberated them from their prisons and asked them to train for the invasion. She should be concerned with their abilities since the Fire Nation's soldiers have been training for combat since they bent their first flame. But she isn't. Her army is fighting for something Azulon could never understand.

_Family, freedom, and a world without fear._

"You can open the gates and surrender now," she calls out, "or we can force them open and do this the hard way."

Silence rings.

Kei watches as something slick and black oozes down the walls. _Oil_, she realizes.

She's barely brought her arms up and began to rip the earth up when the wall bursts into flames and reaches for her. The heat warms her cheeks as she holds the wall up, stretching the length of the road, and shields her regiment.

When the heat is gone, she uncrosses her arms and pushes the earth back into the ground. Her teeth grind and the ugly monster in her cries for retribution.

Breathing deeply through her nose, she reaches for the source of her own energy and blasts from the ground, fire leaving her feet and palms. She's too quick for the firebending soldiers and easily makes it to the other side of the wall.

An entire squadron awaits her and she faults when she lands. In the front of the group, a boy has his hands raised, one palm open with the other fisted; he looks just like Jiro did and impossibly young, his helmet slightly slipping on his forehead.

_This is what Azulon has resorted to?_

She's so angry she could melt through the iron gate with her breath of fire alone. He has _children_ on the front lines.

The boy who looks like Jiro brings his closed fist forward, a fire blast following, and Kei blocks it with her forearm before she swings her leg around and blasts him into a group of soldiers with a gust of air.

There are more children than she can count, some barely old enough to understand why they're fighting. She tries to avoid harming them, her heart still soft, and uses the water from her dual flasks to whip them unconscious. Her gut tells her the older men, the ones who knew the world before the comet, are closer to the palace.

When she's incapacitated the child soldiers, she inspects the door and finds it's been melted shut.

Kei curses and grumbles under her breath but widens her stance. She cracks her knuckles and squares her knees and arms, searches for the earth beneath the metal wall. It whispers to her and she seizes it with an unbendable grip before ripping her arms away, running as the ground tears and crumbles under her control. Sweat creeps down her temples and her arms burn. With a final grunt, she digs her heels in and pulls.

**xvii.**

Azulon feels the wall crumble. He doesn't have to be an earthbender to know that. _Her troops are flooding the city by the second._

He knows he can't defeat an angry mob of benders–not without a comet, not with so few soldiers.

But that's never been the plan. He's always been able to see the bigger picture and make the necessary sacrifices. This battle is no different.

**xviii.**

Once Kei knows her army has entered the city, she leaves them to work. They know their jobs. Now she has to do hers.

She blasts from the ground again, flying high above the city. Her heart races and she can feel the power thrumming through her body but there's still that hole. It's grown in the last few months, grown so big she's not sure how much of herself is left. A creature of darkness and retribution has filled its spot and she feels its presence in moments like this. Kei doesn't think she even recognizes herself. Would her Ma and Pa?

It doesn't matter.

Along the way, Kei lands on a terraced rooftop to regain her breath before launching back into the air. The city below her is in chaos. Houses are burning and she can see mothers running with their children. Water meets fire meets earth and the anger and brightness she felt at the swamp returns. It spreads in her vision but she fights and pushes it back. _I need to do this on my own._

The palace appears and in front she can see that this is where the majority of the guards have been placed. When they see her, the onslaught of fire begins. This time she doesn't hold back. These are grown men, men old enough to be her father or grandfather.

Kei rolls when she lands and slams a closed fist into the ground. The earth around her ripples and collapses under the men. Dipping to dodge a fire blast, she pulls water from her flasks and wraps it around one soldier's ankle, using it as if it were a vine to throw him into a nearby wall. His body makes a sickening thud and Kei watches as blood pools around his head.

A man yells behind her, all fury and fire. Kei snarls, her gut twisting, and takes control of a fire whip before she redirects it back in a move that's half-firebending, half-waterbending. She adds a little extra power to the blow and it hits the man in the chest before he can dodge and begins to eat at his skin.

The smell of burning flesh pulls her back to the swamp and grief, true grief stronger than the moon and ocean and sun combined, rips through her, clawing at her throat and burning her eyes.

The glow returns. She pushes it away more violently this time. _No,_ she growls the thought._ Not yet._

Tall ruby doors lead her into a massive courtyard. It's empty–all of the guards who'd previously manned it now lay injured or dead on the front steps after leaving their posts to confront Kei when she landed–and her footsteps echo like thunder. She's a storm, unstoppable and frightening and enchanting all the same.

She's never been to the palace but her feet instinctually lead her where she wants to go. Even without the glow, Roku's memories guide her. He knows where Azulon is hiding and Kei feels his anger pushing at a wall in her mind. If it breaks, she'll lose control and the Avatar State will take control. And she can't have that. She needs to do this alone. She needs Azulon to look her in the eyes–her eyes, green like moss, not the glow of a hundred other benders–and realize that she, the stupid, naive girl from the swamp with nothing to her name, will be the one to end him.

Her palms burn when she places them on the doors. The metal is hot under her skin and she holds herself for a moment to relish in the sting before she pushes them wide open.

And there he is.

**xix.**

"I've been waiting for you, Avatar."

"I'm not here to talk."

"An Angi Kai then? Very well. I've never fought an Avatar before. Let's see if I can ruin you as quickly as the rest."

**xx.**

The sound of his red robe fluttering is the only warning she gets before his hands are pressed together and arcing down to slice her with a blinding stream of fire.

Kei dips, presses through the flames, and rotates her hips to release a gust of air that slams Azulon back into his throne.

The man, hair black like soot and eyes burning like two twin comets, laughs. It's slow, raspy, crackles and breaks like the snap of fireworks. His smile reminds her of the smirk Sozin presented her with when he visited her at the Boiling Rock. _He thinks he's already won._

"Tell me, Avatar… Have you ever faced a true prodigy? You can't stop me. _I've never been beaten._"

Actions speak louder than words so, wordlessly, she draws the water from her flasks and allows it to swallow her arms; she forms two water whips with the ends frozen into lethal scythes that gleam in the darkness of the throne room.

_I don't care if you're a prodigy. I don't care if you're the Fire Lord. I will cut you down like the animal you are._

Azulon stands, sheds that red robe to reveal obsidian armor, and raises his fists. Fire howls forward, blasting her with its heat and pushing her back a step. She turns her face and blocks it with ice, swinging a blade where she thinks his feet might be behind the blockade.

The Fire Lord springs into the air, bursting past his attack. One heel arcs down, bringing destruction where it follows. Kei reaches for the earth beneath the cool marble floor and rips a wall to the surface. It shields her from the fire and she shoves it forward. She feels it slam into the throne, bending the gold and brass, but Azulon has vanished into thin air.

Then before she can turn, he's off to her side, launching a volley of quick kicks and fire fists that force her to retreat behind a pillar of volcanic rock. The heat brings sweat to her forehead and upper lip and swelters on her skin until it stings.

Fear rips a place in her soul and patters in her heart as that firework laugh pitches through the room. Her chest feels so tight and her hands shake, adrenaline and terror mixed, as she tries to draw the water she's dropped back to her.

_He's too fast. He's avoiding every attack I throw his way. Brute strength isn't enough against him. I need to move differently. I need to move like Aang._

Kei rolls to the next pillar and brings a closed fist to the marble. Earth ripples forward until it stops at Azulon's foot. The firebender stumbles a step, his stance broken, but it's all she needs.

Water wrapped back around her arms, she loops one whip around his ankle and grabs his wrist with the other. Then she swings him into the air and slams him into the ground with a war cry. While he's still down, struggling to his feet, she gathers fire in her palms and rushes forward to blast him through the throne room doors.

Azulon spins to avoid the attack, gathers her fizzling fire from the air, and brings it around his back before sending it back to air.

Sliding into the airbending _kata_, Kei spins with her hands raising before her. There are several more attacks, each searing the surface of her flesh, but none of them direct hits. She inches closer with each spin and leap.

When she's a few feet away, she brings her arms back and sucks in a deep breath that fuels her fire. Azulon hits the doors with a sickening thud and tumbles through the gate into the open hallway.

He pushes himself up on his elbows and his white dragon teeth flash in the moonlight as he grins. A thin trail of blood trickles down the side of his face toward his ear.

She feels it burst through the damn before she can stop it, chasing away the monster she's become and replacing it with an entirely different beast. Briefly, she sees her reflection in a stray piece of glass.

White eyes framed by white pain, hands glowing with blistering starfire.

_"Azulon, you and your father have upset the balance of the world and you will now face the consequences."_ Her voice swells and grows as Kuruk, Kyoshi, Roku and a hundred others echo through her.

Azulon laughs giddily and turns heel. He leaps over the half-wall separating the hall from the gardens and launches himself into the air with blue fire streaming from his hands and feet.

**xxi.**

The world is exploding above him. This he is sure of. He can't see it from the deep darkness of his cell below the earth but he can feel it in the trembling walls and in the electric air.

Airbenders in the cells around him cry out when an explosion rattles their world. Earth meets metal as a nearby chunk of wall is forcibly pushed out.

In the dim light, he can see two figures climbing out of the hole. One is obviously an earthbender, responsible for the tunnel leading to their cells, and he thinks he sees a flash of blue on the other's forehead–_an airbender._

The others must see what he does because they begin to weep and cry out. It's a cacophony of joy and relief that echoes around him and swallows him whole. Someone has come to save them. That's what the exploding world above means.

If he's right–and he usually is–someone with whom he's intimately familiar is bringing the Fire Nation capital to its knees. _Did she come for me? Does she know I'm here?_

"Alrighty, let's get you guys out of here," the earthbender says, cracking his knuckles and sinking into his knees. "Stand back. It'll be messy."

The man uses his bending to pry apart their cells and one by one the cavern fills with airbenders who haven't felt the sun or wind in decades.

When the earthbender comes to his cell, one dark eyebrow arches. He makes no move to free him from his cell. No doubt it's the inky color of his hair and the amber shade of his eyes. There's no mistaking his heritage and he doesn't blame the other man for his hesitancy.

"Well, what do we have here–were you too slimy for even your countrymen?"

"Bumi, wait," the airbender who'd accompanied him says, placing a hand on his shoulder. _He knows her. He knows the airbender and that means that _she_ is here._

She looks at him, looks past the thick beard on his face and the sallow color of his skin, looks into his soul with all-knowing eyes.

"Jiro?"

**xxii.**

The wind whips past her and rips the ends of her hair across her face. Just in front of her, she can see the trail of Azulon's blue fire as he weaves through a starry night sky.

His laughter–maniacal between short intakes of breath–rips through the sky like the prequel to a never-ending storm.

Kei uses a mixture of air and fire to keep herself airborne. She bends the water out of the clouds they pass through, thrusting long streams of it out with heavy punches.

The Avatar State has provided her with a limitless well of strength and energy that thrums and hums through her veins like opium. She's high on power and unstoppable as she pursues the Fire Lord. She's not at all in control of herself but who cares when the spirits of hundreds of Avatars are the ones puppeteering her assault?

She has one goal and one goal only: Kill Azulon. Restore peace.

The means with which she achieves this are inconsequential.

Finally, one of her waterwhips hits home. It sinks icy teeth around his leg and Azulon's laughter breaks for a moment as he groans in pain.

The fire and air holding her up dies and she can feel herself falling, falling, _falling_. Azulon is following, forced to plummet even with the inferno of cold fire still blasting from his hands and feet.

Her feet hit the roof of a bell tower first, and she slides on the terracing before she jumps. Kei braces her knees and the earth bends to meet her as she rips Azulon out of the sky and slams him into a wall.

There are people all around her, screaming and running as the ground buckles and caves under Kei. The Fire Lord rises, bloody and bruised, but relatively unharmed in areas it counts the most.

Kei reaches for every drop of water in the city. Every pot, pan, bathtub and pitcher. It rushes and worms toward her and her fingers twitch in anticipation. And while the water swarms, Azulon assumes a new stance.

With two fingers pointed, he pulls them in and out and around his body. Something crackles in the air, bursts into existence. Another moment later, Kei is diving to avoid an unforgiving fork of lightning.

The light behind her eyes fades and suddenly she's just a girl. Her breaths begin to tear through her chest and her limbs ache but there's still another force driving her to fight past the exhaustion and it's not the Avatar State. It's the monster whose teeth ache to sink into Azulon's flesh and rip him limb from limb.

"It's called the _cold-blooded fire_. Have you ever faced it, Avatar Kei?" he snarls, face twisted devilishly as his eyes flare. Kei eyes his hands as they dance to pull another bolt into existence. When she doesn't answer, Azulon leers. "I thought not."

**xxiii.**

"She thinks you're dead," Bumi says casually as they crawl back up the hole he'd burrowed into the underground caverns. "I gotta tell you, she'll be over the moon that you're not… well, _dead_."

Jiro grunts and helps the woman he's holding up over a jagged piece of earth. "I hope you're right."

The lip of Bumi's tunnel flashes red and blue before they're plunged into black. Jiro peaks his head out of the tunnel, deems it safe from whatever the light had come from, and pulls the woman out into the open world.

Red and blue flash again, this time somewhere above him, and Jiro inhales a sharp breath when he looks up.

It's _her_. She's flying, weaving through the sky like she's a koi fish in water, as Azulon summons a storm of electricity. Water follows her wherever she flies, freezing and unfreezing at her will to suit whatever need she claims.

The earth rumbles, too, and the top of a building launches into the air as she rips it up and tosses it toward the Fire Lord like she's playing with a ragdoll.

This is definitely not the girl he left behind at the Boiling Rock.

Bumi stands next to him and he whistles with two fingers wedges between his teeth. "Now _that's_ my girl! Kick his ass, squirt!"

Mela, the airbender, scowls at him. "Bumi, she can't hear you."

"Doesn't hurt to speak it into existence," he says and shrugs.

Jiro's heart hammers in his chest. He's afraid for her, though he probably doesn't need to be. Not when she's so effortlessly assumed the role of warrior and conquer in a few months time.

Something darts above the rooftops, calling his attention like a siren's song. Whatever it is, at least thirty of them rush above him toward a singular destination; they're lithe and fast and their faces are hidden in shadow with the only distinguishable shape being the bow on their back….

_The Yuyan Archers._

Whatever reassurances he'd fed himself before vanish. If the Yuyan are here, they're here by Azulon's order and there's only one person important enough to warrant their deployment.

"Mela," he says in a tight voice. "I need you to follow me."

"What? Why? I have to get my people to safety."

"Kei's life is in danger. I need an airbender."

Mela follows his gaze to the shadows darting through the city's upper level. She stiffens, like she's seen a ghost, and her jaw ticks.

"We need to hurry," she says, already moving. "Where do you think they're headed?"

Jiro looks at the path Azulon's lightning makes across the sky. Up close, in the heat of the battle, he's sure it looks spontaneous. But it's no coincidence that the archers are swarming in the same direction.

"We need to get to the coronation courtyard."

**xxiv.**

With a burst of power that is entirely her own, Kei wraps her arms around Azulon's stomach and a yell rips from her throat as she blasts them into the courtyard. They tumble, roll, and fall, collecting bruises and scrapes. Pieces of her leather gear rip and leave parts of her stomach and back bare.

Kei pushes herself up, shoulders heaving as she struggles to regain her breath. Stray pieces of hair fall in her eyes and her lips curls as her face pulls into a snarl. Every nerve in her is alive and the creature has only grown with every blow landed on the Fire Lord.

_I am unyielding and unbreakable like the First Tree. My blood is water, my breath is air, my bones are earth, and my soul is fire. I am the Avatar and in this I cannot fail._

Azulon lays on his back. His firework laugh burns her ears, bubbling with a wet cough, and her sight blurs with blinding light that she holds back by a frayed thread. "You've been quite the fun, Avatar. Your soldier boy was far less entertaining."

White noise fills her ears. She feels herself leave her body as the other returns before snapping back into place. Her rage–the creature, this monster–won't let her go. It needs no one, wants no connection to her past lives.

Azulon sits on ruined court tiles with his elbows on his knees, unperturbed by the seething young Avatar in front of him. There are silver chinks in his armor where she's beaten it away and the topknot on his head has slipped halfway off.

"Oh, yes," says Azulon, an icy flame flickering in his hand. It darkens his face until he's all lines and shadows, highlights of blue fire brushed here and there, a truly sinister sight to see. "They brought the boy to me after you escaped the Boiling Rock. He never put up as much of a fight as I'd hoped he would but it was entertaining enough to watch him burn. You aren't very good at saving those you claim to love, are you?"

Fire propels her forward until she's face to face with the Fire Lord.

"_What did you do to Jiro_?" she hisses, looming over him as the cracks in her soul spider and snap.

Azulon stands. This close to each other, she can see that he towers over her by a full head. In his comet eyes, pieces of amber and gold flicker hotly.

"I danced over his blackened bones, Avatar. Then I fucked an airbender whore and taught my sons the easiest points to slip a knife between a man's ribs."

A roar builds in her and she releases it with two heavy blasts of air. Her palms hit Azulon's chest and he reels backward, high in the air. He corrects himself with fire blasts and when he lands, laughter echoing around him, he begins to dip into that dance of yin and yang, pushing and pulling the _jin_ around him.

Kei raises a slab of earth as the lightning strikes. It explodes under her hands, sends her back several feet as the skin on her palms bubbles with burns. Azulon approaches her as cool and unpredictable as the cold blooded fire he wields.

She is not calm. She's slipping, grasping at the straws of something. She's being consumed, falling farther and deeper into a great and terrible fury that leaves her world in shades of gray. Her chest is so tight and her eyes sting with smoke and tears and she feels like bursting out of her skin.

_I'm all alone. There's no one here to save me. There's no one here to stop me._

"And now that I have you _right where I want you,_ I will end you and what remains of your savage tribe. You can't stop me, Avatar. I cannot be beaten."

Two fingers point at her, sparking and smoking as the electricity rushes to the surface.

Her vision flashes, drowns the world in light, and then she's moving in a way she's never moved before. It's all sharp little jerks and stiff muscles and finger twitches like she's playing a broken lute by a campfire in late summer.

Kei's hands are extended before her, hands vertical to the ground and fingers loosely spread. Something pulses underneath her, sings to her as it rushes through a million little highways and the high of the Avatar State melts with something that burns even brighter.

A second heartbeat pounds in her chest.

Azulon kneels in front of her and remains there while she is pulled to her feet by a gust of wind that swirls around her in a tornado. His arms are still extended in a lethal strike of lightning that never came but his face has twisted into something else.

The smile–_he thinks he's already won_–is gone and has been replaced with pain, horror, and complete surprise. His body is tight like a string pulled taught.

Kei curls her fist, seeks out the strongest note in an symphony of millions. His body moves under her like she's a puppeteer just learning her craft. The monster purrs and gulps down mouthfuls of the lazy, all-consuming power she's just discovered.

The Fire Lord gasps, gurgles as blood crawls up his throat and stains his dragon teeth red. "What–_what are you doing to me_?"

Something crawls over her mouth. Not a smile, not a smirk, not quite a grimace either. Kei looks like a glass doll whose ivory face was shattered and glued back together–except now there are small gaps and holes and spiderweb cracks where there should be blushing cheeks. She's been placed together again, but none of the pieces fit where they should.

Kei finds the note she's looking for. It's a steady thrum–_thud thud, thud thud_–that supports the rest of its song.

The courtyard is a galestorm of isolated wind and water and fire and earth. She takes one step closer to the Fire Lord, relishes that fearful gleam in his eyes, before she closes her fist entirely and clenches it until her knuckles are white and pink and satisfaction in the shade of crimson spills through her.

The Fire Lord falls. He does not rise.

The Avatar discovers that bloodbending isn't so different from swampbending.

Someone calls her name and her head whips to the source._ Impossible you're gone you're dead he danced on your bones–_

The light crowding her vision fades just enough for her to see the color of his eyes. Not two comets like Azulon's but the bronze shade of a sun sinking into the ocean.

He's running and he looks so terrified. _Of me?_ she wonders. _Did he see what I did to him?_

When the arrow pierces her heart, slipped between two ribs exposed through torn leather, Kei collapses and draws her last breath before she hits the ground.

The Fire Lord falls that night. But, then again, so does the Avatar.

The Yuyan do not miss.

**xxv.**

Somewhere in the Earth Kingdom, a baby cries.

A shadowy figure hushes the child, popping the tip of their smallest finger in its mouth. They slink through the city's streets, sticking close to walls and dark corners where the midnight watch won't think to look. It's fairly easy to do. Xianghao is far enough from the coast that the war hasn't quite reached them yet. The only sign that the Fire Nation had declared war were the homeless children and the packed halfway homes. People, for the most part, are still relaxed here. They're not afraid of the night and the terrors it brings.

Their destination is in sight. _Mama Lu's Orphanage for Lost Children_. It's a two-story building made up of crudely-bent earth and warped wood. It's not the type of place any decent parent would want to see their child but it's the closest orphanage with any openings. (At least they'd bothered to check and knew their baby would have a roof to live under. Orphanages that were full were simply tossing children–no matter the age–back out onto the street. That had to count for something, right?)

Crawling up Mama Lu's front steps, they place the baby down. It's still crying, nose red from the effort and the chilling autumn wind. The guardian makes a clicking sound with their tongue, fidgets with the blanket, and makes sure the note is pinned tightly to the cloth. Then they knock, three sharp staccato notes that echo through the structure, and run.

They have enough decency to hide behind a corner and wait for the door to be opened. An elderly woman with her white hair wrapped in curls emerges wrapped in a thin black wrap. She frowns, looks around for a second, before the baby's cries force her gaze down.

The old woman gasps and picks up the small, wrinkled thing whose face is scrunched up in a wail. Paper crackles under her fingers and the woman twists it toward her so she can get a better look.

_My name is Jinhai and I need a home._

Mama Lu snorts, rocking the child back and forth as they search the dark street for whoever might have left it there. They're long gone by now, crawling back into whichever hole they crawled out of. "You and a thousand other babies, Jinhai. You and a thousand others."

* * *

_tbc._

* * *

**_finale commentary:_**

And that concludes Book Two. I always knew I wanted Kei to die fighting the Fire Lord, but I bounced around a lot between whether it should be Sozin or Azulon and how exactly she should go. My original idea was for her to enter the Avatar State and essentially bring the dormant volcano the capital sits on back to life and effectively kill both of them as a tribute to Roku and Sozin, but that complicated the matter of how everyone else was going to survive. So instead I drew this parallel between Kei and Hama, who both were forced to discover bloodbending as a means of survival after a prolonged period of imprisonment where they were tortured and abused.

My headcanon that Azulon bends blue fire stems from the fact that–if you're going to name one of your children after the reigning Fire Lord, shouldn't it be your first-born son? It's my personal belief that Azula was named after her grandfather for more than just a sign of respect and stemmed from her ability to wield blue fire, just like her namesake.

Also, just a fun fact in case any of you lovely readers were interested, my favorite scene (to write _and_ read-over tbh) was when Kei liberated the earthbending prison. I love Kyoshi and I just… I had to do it y'all. If Roku can possess Aang, then Kyoshi can posses Kei. Because on top of my love for her, I really feel like Kyoshi and Kei have similar personalities and experiences and had Kei been given the chance to grow and get over her trauma, they would have followed similar paths as the Avatar.

If you liked Kei's character, don't worry. This isn't the last you'll see of her. She'll have plenty of cameos in the upcoming installment about our friendly neighborhood Earth Avatar. And as far as the Fire Nation goes… don't worry. They still have two more cycles to throw the world into imbalance.


	6. Interlude: Water Becomes Earth

**Synopsis:** Aang recieves a vision of the future during the storm in which he freezes himself and is presented with a choice: Envoke the Avatar State and remain frozen for one hundred years or drown and reincarnate so the next Avatar can save what remains of his people post-genocide. The choice is not easy. It takes a full cycle to bring the world to back peace.

**Author's Note:** A very short interlude that I wanted to post before heading into Book Three for the purpose of context as we take a look at a world post Fire Nation regime.

* * *

**INTERLUDE  
**_WATER BECOMES EARTH_

**i.**

News of the Fire Lord's death spreads through the world and the people rejoice. Soldiers return home to mothers and wives they haven't seen in years. The three rings of Ba Sing Se light with candles and fireworks and they paint their faces and bodies white like the Avatar.

Finally, they are free.

But their freedom has come with a price.

**ii.**

"We need an answer, Ty Jiro! Did she or did she not die while in the Avatar State?" the Earth King shouts from his position at the head of the table.

"I don't know. I was so focused on getting to her that… everything else seemed irrelevant. I think her eyes were fading. I think she left it when she saw me."

"You think? _You think! _The world needs its Avatar more than ever right now! The airbenders are homeless and starving while the Fire Nation falls into anarchy. Loyalists continue to attempt to assassinate the internment Fire Lord–" This time, it's the chief of the Northern Water Tribe who berates Jiro. "–and there's been a massive spike in crime as the released prisoners of war try and make their way home. We need the Avatar."

The Earth King frowns and lets out a heavy sigh. "The sages have attempted locating Kei's reincarnation through geomancy and have thus far been completely unsuccessful. We've sent missions out to test children born around the time of Avatar Kei's death but there hasn't been anything promising. The Avatar simply cannot be found and with the uncertain circumstances surrounding Kei's death, we need to prepare for a world where the Avatar no longer exists."

**iii.**

In Xianghao, a little boy meets a little girl in an orphanage that is too full.

They are both earthbenders, which should make their time at Mama Lu's short because bending children are always adopted faster than Lu can draw up the paperwork, but the little girl is prone to fits of sickness. The couples who arrive whisper that she's possessed by a vengeful spirit that twists and pulls her body into unnatural shapes, leaves her eyes rolling into her skull and her mouth frothing. No one wants to adopt her, even after she smiles at them with sunshine in her eyes, and everyone wants to adopt the little boy. It's only after he spits and howls and bites and slings pebbles between their eyes that they conclude perhaps _he_ is the one possessed.

The boy refuses to leave the girl. He ruins more chances with more couples than he can count.

They spend fourteen years together in Mama Lu's Orphanage for Lost Children.

**iv.**

Their life on the street begins a little like this:

Mama Lu smiles when she sees the boy kiss one of her girls on the cheek, a blush searing the tips of his ears.

She screams when she catches him behind the orphanage pressed against another boy, their lips melting together.

Mama Lu kicks the boy out and leaves him to be devoured by the streets.

She won't have him infecting the other children with his sickness.

The little girl–now not so little–leaves with him.

She's thin and frail but she's determined. When the boy tells her to return to the orphanage, she shakes her head and stomps her foot. The ground rumbles a little.

"You didn't leave me. I'm not leaving you."

**v.**

The world stops looking for the Avatar when sixteen years of unsuccessful searching passes.

It's concluded that Avatar Kei died while in the Avatar State during her fight against the Fire Lord. Her soul was never reborn and the cycle was broken.

They slowly accept the notion that the Avatar is an idea of the past and choose to celebrate the greatest victories instead of mourning the loss. Kei freed them from the radical Fire Nation imperialists and Yangchen saved them from General Old Iron. Kyoshi killed Chin the Conqueror and even Aang, the most forgotten Avatar, sacrificed his life so that his successor might save the Air Nomads.

The world owes the Avatar a great debt and so they celebrate.

Statues erect across the world. There are some of the old Avatars but most of them are of Avatar Kei. They call her the Great Liberator. The Painted Warrior. Children go to sleep with an epic saga called _The Legend of Kei and the Blue Dragon _ringing in their ears.

There are holidays and cakes, of course, and bending forms adopted from what little remains of the Foggy Swamp named in Kei's honor. Gaoling even builds a museum that holds her bow and quiver, her ruined battle armor, and a mural that tells the story of her rise and fall.

Her name echoes through the world as the people grow content and lazy. They do not care for the dark spirits who rise in the poles and in the great forests or the missing children.

They busy themselves with celebration. They sing her name.

_Kei. _The Last Avatar.

**vi.**

In an abandoned factory, curled into a stolen blanket, a boy dreams of lightning and blood and chipped white paint and he wakes screaming.

* * *

_tbc._


	7. Book Three, Part I: Earth

**Synopsis:** Aang recieves a vision of the future during the storm in which he freezes himself and is presented with a choice: Envoke the Avatar State and remain frozen for one hundred years or drown and reincarnate so the next Avatar can save what remains of his people post-genocide. The choice is not easy. It takes a full cycle to bring the world back to peace.

**Author's Note:** HERE'S MY NEW BABY. I love him to pieces. This book is going to have a different energy to it than Book Two. (I think. Honestly, this story writes itself. I have no control anymore. I'm simply a vessel.) Less doom and gloom because idk where the hell Kei went but I'm honestly okay with it. This one has more humor. Same good ole epic storyline but more character relationships and expansion on the lore. Sounds good, right? I already have a few great scenes in mind that I can't wait to share with you because I laugh when I think about them. The spirits you read about toward the end of the chapter are based on a creature in Japanese lore called the _taotie_. I stumbled across them when I was doing research for this arc's villain and thought they were cool af. Also, Xianghao is a city I made up and is located somewhere between Hei Bai's forest and the Great Divide, just in case if you were wondering.

I moved back onto my college campus this last Saturday and began classes again yesterday so there might be more time between chapters if they're going to continue being the same length as they were with Kei. This chapter is the shortest of all the ones I've written (interlude excluded) and is around 5,500 words. Let me know if you prefer this length to the 12,000 word monstrosities I was giving you guys. I could update faster with the shorter pieces, but then again there'd be less content to read in one go. If y'all don't have a preference, I'll probably just continue with the big chapters because it lets me organize plot points easier lmao.

ONE LAST THING: s/o to _A.D. Curtis_ for spamming the comments with your fantastic insight. I love hearing your thoughts and I was a very happy child when you started disCUSSING THINGS THAT ARE OR WILL BE VERY IMPORTANT TO THIS STORY. And _DodemGM, _you're fabulous, too. I honestly live for comments. I'm a dragon. I horde these things and reread them five hundred times.

* * *

**BOOK THREE: EARTH  
****PART I  
**_AVATAR JINHAI_

_A boy cannot change his destiny any more than he can change the direction of the tides._

**i. **

Jinhai fiddles with the strings on his pants for a moment before tying them into tight knot. He adjusts his shirt, tugging down the edge that'd ridden up to reveal the lower half of his stomach, and runs a hand through his hair to tame the bits that stuck up. Satisfaction slips through him and he looks down at the girl in front of him through his eyelashes.

"It was nice meeting you…" he begins, trailing off as he realizes he'd never asked what it was.

"Meilan," she says, a blush creeping into her cheeks as if she's just now found her sense of modesty. The tips of her fingers turn white as they press into the wall behind her in an attempt to keep her knees from buckling.

Jinhai grins cheekily and reaches down to pick up his canvas bag. He kisses her cheek in passing, a brief brush of the lips. "Meilan. Cute. I'll see you around?"

She opens her mouth, maybe to voice a request for more or a reminder that he has no idea where to find her, but Jinhai has already turned heel and is slipping out of the hideaway into the streets. His bag settles between his shoulder blades as he flows with the early morning foot traffic.

There's a small street-side market on his way home and he stops to purchase a dozen sweet rolls and a package of boulder bars. Jinhai drops a few coins in the vendor's hand and before he tucks the items away in his bag, he removes a roll and bites into it.

Xianghao buzzes as he walks. At six o'clock in the morning, most of those out are rushing to the gates to earn a spot in the city mines or crop fields. Those who aren't chosen for the day will return home, penniless and hungry.

Jinhai is returning home but it's from one of his own odd jobs that he works to support himself. The quarry a day's walk away needed earthbenders to clear away the rubble of a rock slide. Yuans clink inside a leather pouch in his pocket.

Officially, he'd re-entered Xianghao's walls an hour and a half ago. It'd still been dark. But then he'd stopped for a drink and he saw a girl that'd struck his interest across the tavern.

That had led him to the alcove in the alley, where he and Meilan were… _intimate_. And now he was here, making his way home as dawn cleared and the sun rose over gray clouds.

Jinhai hops up the stairs to his apartment two at a time, whistling a tune someone sang in the tavern. Instead of digging out his key, he knocks on the door and rolls onto the back of his heels.

Somewhere in the apartment, he can hear movement and the sound of a voice cursing as its owner runs into a table. Jinhai grins.

When the door opens, his roommate greets him warmly.

"Why didn't you just use your key, you asshole? You know I don't wake up for at least another few hours," says Hotaru, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.

He shoulders past Hotaru gently, still whistling. "But I thought you'd want to see me," he whines, throwing himself on the living room mat with his back leaned against the wall. "Because you love me _so_ much and I've been gone for _so_ long."

"You've been gone for three days and I would've been fine waiting another hour or two to say hello."

Jinhai digs the bag of treats from his rucksack. "Even if I bought sweet rolls?"

Hotaru's eyes immediately widen and she smiles, wide and true. She lunges for the bag, her tongue poking out of the corner of her lips as her fingers strain. Jinhai holds it just out of reach. He makes a disapproving noise low in his throat but he's desperately trying to contain his laughter as Hotaru climbs him like he's a tree.

"Not yet, little girl. You said you could've waited a few more hours. I think I should just eat them all by myself."

"Jinhai," she growls, pushing his head down as her fingers brush the corner of the bag. "You're a grown man. _Stop being such a big baby._"

Finally, Jinhai breaks down in a fit of laughter that aches in his stomach and brings tears to his eyes. Hotaru snatches the bag from him and unrolls it before greedily snatching out two rolls.

After she's taken a rather large bite out of the first roll, she smiles at him sickly sweet. "Have I ever told you how much I love you, best friend?"

"Maybe once or twice," he says, smiling, and pats the ground next to him. "Come sit down. Tell me about your week."

Hotaru does, sliding down a thin wall with peeling brown paint. She picks at the roll in her hand before tearing a piece off and offering it to Jinhai. Their knees and shoulders bump together as they listen to the city yawn and stretch as it continues to wake.

"Anything exciting?" asks Jinhai.

"Umm. I saw an airbender in the market on Tuesday. He was pretty old but it's been a few years since I've seen one… Oh! Yao came looking for you. He said to tell you he's got a fight lined up for you when you got back in town."

"That's good. The mines just don't pay like they used to. I'll head down and talk to him later today. We could use the extra money."

There's a beat of comfortable silence, filled only with the sound of Hotaru reaching into the bag for another treat.

Then: "Did you get sick at all while I was gone?"

Hotaru swallows and her eyes dart to the side. She begins to circle the pad of her thumb with the attached pointer finger. It's a tick of hers, a sign Jinhai knowns means she's about to lie to him.

"No. Not since you were here last week."

"Hotaru..." he warns

"Okay. Fine. _Twice. _But it wasn't even that bad! I only have like a small bruise on my elbow and I didn't even bite my tongue."

Jinhai groans. "I knew I shouldn't have left you alone. What if you'd hit your head or hurt yourself? What if it happened when you were in public? You know that people freak out whenever you have a fit."

"Well I didn't and I'm fine. People can think that I'm possessed all they want. My craziness is entirely my own." Hotaru grins in an attempt to cheer her friend up but Jinhai's focus is on the ground and he's frowning deeply. "I'm not a little girl. I'm nineteen years old and you can't stay with me twenty-four-seven. You have a life, too. I'm not gonna burden you with the possibility that I _might_ have a fit when you go somewhere. Most of the time, I don't. So calm down and finish eating these sweet rolls with me before I do it myself and gain twenty pounds."

Jinhai looks up. His brow is still wrinkled with worry but a soft smile slowly smoothes it away. He can't stay mad or frustrated for long when she looks at him like _that–_all big green eyes with pouty lips and a crumb stuck to the corner of her mouth.

He wipes the piece of frosting away, smiles when an embarrassed blush stains her cheeks, and wraps an arm around her shoulders to pull her into his side. With his free hand, he ruffles her short hair–she'd cut it to her shoulders recently and he remembers stammering on his words when she first showed him–and chuckles when she swats at his hand.

They sit like that for a while until the city is roaring with life and not even a crumb remains of the sweet rolls from the market.

**ii.**

After Mama Lu caught Jinhai with his first boyfriend, he and Hotaru were forced to find a way to survive Xianghao's streets.

They were both earthbenders but Hotaru's illness–on top of creating the fits that shocked her body–made it difficult for her to bend earth with much control. She was a natural disaster, all earthquakes and rock falls, and there wasn't a single _sifu_ in a hundred miles who would not only teach her but accept the complications her illness created.

Hotaru couldn't work the mines. Jinhai refused to leave her alone for the amount of time it would take for him to complete a shift.

They looked for other ways to survive.

The girl found work mending, washing, and embroidering clothes for the wealthy families in Xianghao. It allowed her to avoid exposing her sickness and if she had a fit while working, the worst that could happen was a stuck finger or a bucket of spilled water.

Jinhai found other means of survival.

He met Yao a few months after leaving Mama Lu's when one of his goons tried to rob him. It resulted in a bending fight that left who Yao claimed was one of his best fighters with a few cracked ribs and a nasty knock to the head.

"You've obviously never been formally trained but you have potential," said Yao, fingers laced with gold rings tapping against each other. "You're strong, fast, and a quick-thinker. What would you say about fighting in my ring if I agreed to train you and paid you handsomely?"

Jinhai spat at Yao's feet while the crime boss laughed. He'd snatched his stolen bag of coins from Yao's hand, turned heel, and stomped out of the noodle shop that they laundered money through.

"You'll be back!" Yao said after him, still chuckling to himself.

Jinhai remembers how fiercely he swore under his breath. He might've been an orphan but he wasn't a thief and he wasn't a criminal.

But when Hotaru got sick with a burning fever a week later and the doctor slammed the door in Jinhai's face when he offered up two copper pieces, he marched right back into Yao's office.

"When can we start?" he said.

And that was that.

Five years later, Jinhai still found himself in Yao's employment. Yao's specialty was in illegal gambling and drug dealing–specifically, opium. Jinhai's work now consisted of rounding up payments from addicts who thought they could get a free hit or accompanying Yao's men when they smuggled a shipment inside Xiaghao's walls. He tried to keep his hands clean for the most part but his work with Yao was what kept he and Hotaru off the streets and there was very little he wouldn't do for the girl he grew up with.

But in the beginning, Jinhai had strictly worked the ring.

After a week or two of lessons from Yao's top earthbenders–excluding the one whose ribs he'd broken–he was thrown into the fighting ring.

His first opponent was a tall, brawny man with a large scar clouding his right eye.

Jinhai won by the skin of his teeth and received a black eye and broken toe as a souvenir.

Since then, there were so many fights that Jinhai couldn't remember them all even if he tried. Sometimes Hotaru came to watch him and she sat with Yao in a private box above the ring. Yao had seen Hotaru in one of her fits and didn't subscribe to the theory that a spirit liked to possess her on occasion; he only put a pillow under her head and said she'd better not bleed on his antique Fire Nation rug.

There were times when Yao asked him to throw a match and, after swallowing his pride, Jinhai did as he was told.

Tonight is one of those nights.

For this match, his opponent is a skinny Water Tribe boy with a hooked nose and a head as shiny as an airbender's. If Jinhai has to guess, the boy once wore a wolf's tail but it's been shaved off, likely for some disgrace he'd committed against his tribe. Rape or murder probably, if the glint in his blue eyes is anything to go off of.

Jinhai grinds his teeth. _And I have to let this piece of shit win?_

He's a bender so Yao has set out two large barrels of water for him to use. The Water Tribe boy's fingers twitch and the water sloshes over the edge. Jinhai familiarizes himself with the dirt beneath his bare feet, digs his heels in and reaches down to cover his hands in a layer of dust.

They wait, the air crackling with tension as Yao's men finish collecting the bets from the crowd. His record against the newcomer's puts the odds at twenty to one. In the last few months, Jinhai hasn't lost a single match against the ragtag benders Yao has corralled in. It's made the gamblers loose with their money as they place it on what they think should be an easy win.

It's exactly why Yao has asked him to throw the match.

When the bell finally rings, there is no explosion of action. There's only the sound of water sloshing in barrels and the crowd leering at the two stone-still boys in the ring.

They're both… _waiting_. Jinhai listens to the earth, waits and atunes himself to the waterbender's tells. The boy's pulse hitches.

Water surges from their containers, freezing as it slices toward him.

Jinhai leaps back, earth propelling his jump. Ice embeds itself into the ground where he once stood and when the earthbender makes contact with the ground against, he bring his arms to his chest and buries the water deep underneath the earth.

Then he rushes forward, sliding as he rotates his hips and launches a large rock toward his opponent. A sharp thrust from his fist sends a twin boulder careening from the opposite direction. The boy ducks and water moves him forward like he's riding an ocean's wave.

For a long ten minutes, it's water and earth colliding in a brutal war, skin slicing cleanly open and deep purple bruises blooming as a rock collides with tender flesh. Blood drips in Jinhai's eyes and the sound of his own teeth smacking together rings in his ears. It's violence and rage and unbridled power at its best and this is where Jinhai thrives. It lights up the darkest parts of his heart and turns him into a completely different man.

Jinhai teeters on the edge, provides the show he knows Yao wants but keeps the waterbender's pride intact. When he thinks there's been enough damage inflicted on both ends, he allows the waterbender to throw him on his back and knock him unconscious.

When he awakes, he's propped up against a wall in the room provided to fighters before the match. Hotaru kneels in front of him, waving smelling salts in front of his nose.

He groans and rubs the welt forming in his hairline. For a moment, there are two Hotaru's before the mold into one and he can clearly see the frown pulling at her face.

"You took quite the hit," Hotaru says.

"Yao wanted me to lose. Didn't know the bastard kid was going to rock my shit like _that_."

Hotaru swipes away a dot of blood on his eyebrow with the pad of her thumb. Concern flickers in her eyes. "You let him hit you more than usual."

"Yao wanted me to lose. I couldn't just roll over without making it look like I tried."

She slaps her thighs and rolls back onto the balls of her feet. An irritated noise escapes her throat. "I was _worried_."

Jinhai cocks a grin that immediately turns into a grimace when his bruising jaw protests. "Happy to know you care."

Hotaru sighs. "You're impossible. Let's get you home. If only you were a waterbender and you could heal yourself. Now I've got to be the one to play nurse."

"I love you, too."

**iii.**

In theory, the money Yao pays him for throwing the match should be enough to cover most of the month's expenses. Rent, groceries, and Hotaru's medicine from the herbalist don't even eat up half of the winnings. There's more than enough to splurge on a new piece of furniture for their apartment or finally replace Jinhai's holy breeches.

Theory, however, does not include Hotaru falling prey to a fit when she delivers a noblewoman's wedding dress.

Whatever sickness consumes her dug its teeth in deeper than it had in a long time. She'd bitten her tongue and there's a small cut on her forehead where she hit her head on the corner of a table. If the nobleman is to be believed, the ground shook like an earthquake was toppling the city but strangely only affected his property.

(Jinhai doesn't doubt the man in this. During her fits, Hotaru's bending was sometimes released in powerful shock waves that shook the world.)

The noblewoman threatens to tell her fiancé and cry _demon!–_unless Jinhai pays her dowry of forty gold Yuans.

Jinhai buys the woman's silence because there is _nothing _he wouldn't do for Hotaru. He pays the woman even if that means that there is no money for food or rent. Those things can be dealt with. Hotaru hanging from the city gates by a rope cannot be dealt with so easily.

Hotaru grips his hand as tight as she can while he wars within himself. This fit, this wave of sickness, has taken a lot out of her. She's still a little weak, a little delirious, and the clay figurines he makes for Hotaru on her birthdays shake with built-up energy. He doesn't want to leave her. But they need money–_now_, if the landlord pounding on their door and their growling stomachs is any indication.

Yao asks him to accompany his crew to smuggle a batch of opium within Xianghao's walls. He's low on men because most of them refuse to enter the woods around the city at night now. Too many missing people, too many abandoned campsites with belongings left perfectly in place. They've made superstitions run high.

Hotaru doesn't want him to go. Not because she doesn't want to be left alone but because she's worried for his safety. Out of their pairing, she was the one who always prayed to the spirits and believed in the local legends about the _yokai_ who'd crossed into the physical world when the Avatar's era ended.

Jinhai shrugs her off. Who would provide for them if he didn't?

Ultimately, he agrees to help move the product.

"Right now," he tells Hotaru, "dark spirits are less of a threat than starvation."

**iv.**

A black cowl hides Jinhai's mop of black curls from sight and swathes his face in shadows as he marches through a great forest. A thin sliver of the moon carves a spidery path through the trees as they work toward a hole in Xianghao's security–_the perfect spot smuggle a shipment of opium inside_.

In the center of their group of men, earth quietly rolls along, guided by their bending. Packages of opium are piled upon the slab, covered with a black tarp that keeps it hidden and secured in place.

One of the men is whistling an awful, off-key tune that makes Jinhai want to commit his first homicide. It sludges through the humid air and sticks to his skin, piled on top of a sticky layer of sweat. It's winter time, nearing the solstice, but that only means more rain for this part of the Earth Kingdom.

(In this moment, Jinahi wishes he was an airbender so he could bend a breeze into the air–and possibly silence the tone-deaf man Yao condemned him to spend an evening working with. He then follows this moment with a second one to remind himself why he's even here and tries to replace the whistling with the memory of Hotaru's laugh.)

The shipment Yao sent them to pick up is large enough to leave the entire city of Ba Sing Se high for days. There are only a few jobs Jinahi can remember being this large and in the past it meant Yao had plans to corrupt a city official or crush a rival gang.

Jinhai doesn't like to ask questions about Yao's goals. He collects his paycheck and keeps his head down. When a rumor about the governor's daughter and her sudden drug addiction spreads through the city, Jinhai keeps his mouth shut. _Better them than us, _he thinks; but it always sours his thoughts and makes his stomach roll.

As much as he likes to pretend he doesn't have one, his heart always stands in the way of his work. In another life, he imagines he'd be a policeman or a bounty hunter and if he had money he'd fund orphanages across the Earth Kingdom and drag the poor out of a life of poverty. He wouldn't work as muscle for a ruthless crime boss or swindle addicts out of their money. He'd be the type of person who took people like _he is now_ down. He'd stop men like Yao from drugging girls and using them against their fathers.

Jinhai blows out a harsh breath and drags the earth beneath the shipment forward. He's too tired and too worried about Hotaru's health to be considering things this heavy in nature. There's no point in dwelling on things that can't be changed anyway.

"What do you think Yao is planning to do this time?" one of the men asks. He's tall and slender and his too-large-teeth make him look like a baby rabaroo.

"I dunno for sure, but I bet you its got something to do with the Sandstorms making a go at some of Yao's territory in the eastern part of the city," a different voice replies. This one belongs to a boy who looks a tad bit younger than Jinhai and has none of the scars to prove his worth on the streets.

The man with the rabaroo face snorts. "They have no idea who they've fucked with."

"Agreed."

They march like that for a while, each member of the team speculating what the opium is for and who has angered their leader. The woods are eerily quiet except for the echoing sound of their own voices. Not even the cat owls are out and Jinhai can't shake the feeling that they're being watched–or stalked like prey.

He reaches out with the earth and looks for a heartbeat or a tremor that might tell him where the feeling is coming from. But there's nothing. No predators or even small prey.

Jinhai pauses and raises a closed fist. The group stops behind him, grumbles at the interruption. "Something's wrong," he says finally, brow furrowed. He scans the trees around him, but its too dark to make much sense of the shapes that reveal themselves.

"What are you talking about? There's no one out here. The watch never comes this way."

The young earthbender shakes his head. "There's _nothing_ out here. I can't feel anything."

"And that's a bad thing why?"

"The native wildlife are gone. They ran from something."

"Sure you're not just missing it? This may come as a shock to you, kid, but you aren't half as good a bender as you think you are."

Jinhai waits another moment, listens to the dark. The stifling humidity licks his skin but there's something mixed with it, deep and dark and ancient.

He opens his mouth, begins to unfurl his fingers to signal them forward again–

A monster bursts from the trees surrounding them; it's a large creature that stands several heads taller than the biggest man in their group and it's a deep shade of jade with sharp bone-like spikes flowing off its back. Black teeth glint in the night and Jinhai doesn't even have time to bring the earth under his control before one of the men is down, howling as the beast tears into his shoulder.

Jinhai's fists curl and with a strong jerk from his arms he rips a column of stone into the air. He pushes it forward with a flat palm. It strikes air and shatters with a deafening _boom! _when it hits the base of a tree. Where the beast had once been there is only the mangled body of the attacked man.

The remaining men are terrified. One runs into the woods screaming. His voice stops a few seconds later, turns watery and high-pitched before cutting to silence.

Jinhai can taste the fear rolling from the men's bodies. His own heart pounds against his chest as he listens for the creature–but it's nowhere to be seen or heard even though he can feel its energy slick like oil all around him.

"What _was_ that?"

The energy in the air thickens and the hair on Jinhai's neck stands on end. His body buzzes and a voice in the back of his mind, soft and familiar and feminine, whispers, _Duck. Now._

He dives to the ground without time to question what the voice had been just in time to see the jade monster launch above him. A boulder slams into the creature when it dives for another man. It skids across the forest floor before righting itself, claws tearing into the dirt and grass, and unleashes a howl that has Jinhai curling into the ground, his hands pressed over his ears as terror, sharp and coppery, lances through him.

Jinhai scrambles to his feet, turns the fear in his belly to steel, and sinks into a traditional earthbending stance. He can't see a thing but there's that voice in his mind whispering to him. Wherever he feels the creature, wherever that voice tells him to throw a rock, he does. He knows he's hit it with enough force to kill an _unagi_ but it never falls for longer than a second. It's killed at least two of the men and Jinhai can't stop the fear from returning.

He could be next. And Hotaru would never know what happened to him if he died out here. She'd think he left her just like their parents had left them.

There's the sound of bone breaking and flesh tearing and this is when Jinhai realizes that two more of the same beast have joined in on the assault. Opium, torn out of their containers, floats like black snow in the air. When he whips around, desperately trying to tear himself out of his haze of fear and find _something_ corporeal to fight, he meets the gaze of one of the beasts. Two glowing yellow eyes gleam back at him and the beast's lip curls back, its incisors dripping.

_I don't know how to fight like this, _he thinks. _I don't know how to fight _things _like this._

When the creature brings a massive paw forward, takes one step towards Jinhai, he trips on a body and lands on his back with a _thud_. He crawls back on his hands, desperately stumbling and shoving in an attempt to get away from the beast that looks at him like _it knows him. _He wipes a hand over his mouth, smearing blood across his chin from where friendly-fire hit him, and squeezes his eyes when the beast leaps.

His hands raise. The earth trembles. A voice, the same soft voice–_our blood is water, our bones are earth_–echoes in his ears and fills him until he's bursting with energy.

In the darkest part of the woods on the darkest night of the year, light bursts from a boy like dawn spilling over the horizon.

**v.**

In the city of Gaoling, there is a girl in a golden cage.

"Dorjee, darling, come here."

She does as she is told, layers of silk and silver fluttering around her. She moves like a soft summer breeze, small feet soundless on a white marble floor.

Her betrothed snatches the crook of her elbow in what is sure to look like a gesture of affection and gallantry. The guests _ooh_ and _awh _as the hand slips from her arm to her waist. It tugs her into his side. The girl's jaw ticks. They don't see the green and blue layers of bruises beneath the dress, fingerprints tattooed on her skin.

"Show them a little trick, won't you, little bird?" he murmurs, his head dipping until his lips skim the shell of her ear. She pulls back, sees brown eyes glowering down at her with the promise of violence if she says _no_.

She blinks, inclines her head as anger burns her throat, swallows to wash away the rage.

The group of politicians and noblemen and wealthy merchants that are gathered around her and her keeper watch in wonder as the girl extends a single, slender hand. A small tornado gathers in her hand, a simple parlor trick that was beaten into her before she even knew what it meant.

"She's positively _wonderful_."  
"How did you ever find one?"  
"You have to tell me what she's like in the sack."

Her betrothed smirks. There's an art to the way he reduces her to the rank of an exotic pet.

"A smart man knows when to keep quiet."

There's laughter, delight swarming as her betrothed's charisma wins over a room full of potential investments.

The grip on her waist never fades. New bruises are created and they join the rest. During a lull in conversation, a promise is whispered in her ear.

A chill races down her spine.

**vi.**

A boy sits on the docks of Makkapu. His fingers work nimbly as they tie knots, this piece of rope looping over that one, until the beginning of a net emerges.

"Mom says you need to come in. It's time for dinner."

The boy looks up. His little sister stands on the creaking wood beside him with her fists mounted on her hips. He grins at the sight of her dark hair, which is covered in flour and sticks up in every direction.

"Alright, I'm coming." He heaves himself up, dusts the dirt off his shirt, and leaves the net on the dock. Looping an arm over her shoulder, they march back home, which is a small hut not too far from the water's edge. His free hand, which is hidden behind his back, reaches and a small globe of water rises from the water. "So what's for dinner, blubber butt?"

His sister scowls at the nickname. "Rice and fish. What else?"

"Hmm. And how did you get all _this_ in your hair?"

"The baker's son threw it on me when I was on my way back home from the market. He's _so_ gross."

"I guess I'll have to wash it out for you."

His sister looks confused for a moment before the water he bent from the sea dumps over her head. The boy jumps away from her, cackling, and relishes in the rage on the younger girl's face. Her hands ball and she lets out a fearsome shriek.

"_I'm going to kill you, Suluk!"_

**vii.**

Ahote is a warrior first and a firebender second.

This is why the villagers allow him to stay in their town at the base of Mount Makkapu. He chases away the bandits that wander their way and in return they allow him to live among them with little disturbance.

When the sky turns red and orange, he stands hidden behind his hut and performs for the sun. _The Dancing Dragon. _

He may not live with his tribe but some habits cannot broken by distance–or banishment.

* * *

_tbc._


	8. Book Three, Part II: Earth

**Synopsis:** Aang recieves a vision of the future during the storm in which he freezes himself and is presented with a choice: Envoke the Avatar State and remain frozen for one hundred years or drown and reincarnate so the next Avatar can save what remains of his people post-genocide. The choice is not easy. It takes a full cycle to bring the world back to peace.

**Author's Note: **There's not a lot of action in this chapter, but it's super important as I'm trying to shift all of my necessary players into the right positions before shit start's getting real. There's definitely a lot of important information. I honestly could have just put this piece in with Part I, but whatever, right? Kei was written at a much faster pace because there were so many action packed scenes and the plot points were huge and easy to work through, but there also weren't as many characters to deal with and I didn't have to come up with an original villain and there weren't as many FINE DETAILS to include in it... BUT IT'S GOOD. IT'LL BE GOOD. Book Three just might have more parts lol. (But also don't worry. There'll be plenty of action in the following chapters if you're at all worried about it not having a lot.)

p.s. if Jinhai had a theme song, it'd be Rock You Like a Hurricane by Scorpions. The song is literally his personality in a single guitar riff; it's also a song about sex (if you didn't know) and my baby Jinhai is lowkey a slut. But I love him anyway because we do not slut shame in this house. Hotaru's would be You Belong With Me by Taylor Swift... for reasons apparant? (it's love.) also because it's upbeat and peppy and fun like her but also... compeletly iconic. I think about these characters way too much.

* * *

**BOOK THREE: EARTH  
****PART II  
**_AVATAR JINHAI_

_There is something at work in my soul, which I do not understand._

**i. **

When Jinhai still lived at Mama Lu's, he was an easy target for the other children's unbridled anger. They broke the few belongings he owned, pushed and shoved him, cornered and beat him, stole his meals.

It was more than just exclusion and it started as far back as Jinhai could remember. Their treatment was cruel and painful. He didn't understand why until he was five years old when one of the children so graciously and callously said–

"_No wonder your mom didn't want you. You probably look just like your daddy and the sight of you made her sick."_

And suddenly, when Jinhai looked in the mirror, it all made sense.

Only half of his features were Earth Kingdom. His skin was a deep shade of tan that was common among the Si Wong desert tribes and if he had to guess, that was also where his curly, black hair came from, too. They weren't common traits this far north in the Earth Kingdom but they were still a part of the nation's diverse culture.

No, it wasn't his hair or his skin that caused the other children–and some of the caretakers, too–to turn on him.

It was his eyes.

They weren't green or gold, rather a peculiar shade of hazel that was indecisive on most days and were his most distinguishable feature. Their sharp, angular tilt and monolid was only found in the nation that'd caused a lot of people a lot of grief. They told him everything he needed to know.

He was as much a Fire Nation citizen as he was a member of the Earth Kingdom and yet he'd never fully belong to either.

_Half-breed_. That's what the other children called him.

And the caretakers had their own stories, too.

"He was left here when the colonies were rioting," one of the women whispered when she thought she was alone with a friend. "I bet you one of the soldiers had his way with his mother and she left him here because she was so ashamed. I couldn't imagine looking at the face of the very thing that ruined my life, either."

When he was a boy, maybe five or six, there'd been a short period of time that he was sure he was a firebender. It wasn't long after he heard the caretakers whispering about him. He'd gone for a swim in one of the large rivers outside Xianghao and it was the middle of their coldest winter. That year, it rained ice, an occurrence that hadn't happened since Avatar Roku's time. The children at the orphanage were exceptionally cruel that day and suggested he drown himself to purge the fire from his blood. Jinhai had no intention of drowning himself but he did draw the conclusion that he might be able to freeze whatever demon lurked in his veins.

Long story told short, he'd underestimated the current underneath the ice and it pulled him under. He was dragged below the surface and he screamed and pounded on the ice above him. His lungs ached and his eyes burned–and when he was sure he had seconds left to live, his hands snagged on a lip in the ice and it glowed a blinding bright red before his hands broke to the top. He pulled himself out of the water, shivering, terrified. Only a few months later he discovered he was an earthbender and he'd dismissed the whole thing as a miraculous weak spot in the ice and a trick of the light. You couldn't be a firebender _and_ an earthbender. _Not unless_–

Jinahi learned to ignore the words. He learned to ignore the river. He learned to run far, far away and he learned to build walls of earth so high and strong nothing could get over them.

Until now.

There was no running away from the Avatar State.

There was no running away from the men who looked at him with wonder and fear and the realization _that the Avatar was not dead. _He was a boy who fought in Yao's ring and he was a boy who'd moved thousands of pounds of opium and he was a boy who was so terrified of his own nature that he'd shoved it deep down in the belly of his soul.

There was no possible way he could run now. But that didn't stop him from trying.

**ii. **

Jinhai's body has never hurt like this before.

Not when Mama Lu whipped his back raw. Not when he fought in Yao's ring three days in a row. Not when he lived on the streets and the winter's cold seeped and slipped into his bones.

His body rattles like a bag full of silver coins and he feels the power stored in them. It sizzles over every nerve and demands to be seen, heard, and felt. The world bows to that power and so the ground still shakes and the winds still howl. When he enters Xianghao again, the buildings reach for him like trees bending in the wind.

He digs the heels of his palms into his eyes, tries to fight away the pain that splits through his skull, lets out a soft moan when the pressure only continues to grow. Jinhai is covered in blood and ichor and he can feel the light still searing against the back of his eyes, begging to be released.

He's never hurt like this before.

The mantra–he doesn't know where it comes from, but it resonates through him like a tsungi horn–swallows his mind, eclipses all other thoughts.

_I am unyielding and unbreakable like the First Tree. My blood is water, my breath is air, my bones are earth, and my soul is fire. I am the Avatar and in this I cannot fail. _

Jinhai runs. He runs until he's stumbling, falling into walls, pushing into the few people out this late at night.

He can't outrun the visions. He can't fight them off. Light swallows his world and a new one emerges from the rays.

There's a little girl with pointy features and spindly arms and legs. She sits before three elders whose faces are covered with giant leaves and there's a snake wrapped around her–_their_–body.

"_A great spirit called Raava lives in you, Kei. The First Tree showed us who you are and told us what we had to do keep you safe until you were old enough to leave. _You _are the Avatar."_

Jinhai gasps and reaches for the closest thing to him–a fruit stand, emptied for the night. The wood feels cool and firm beneath him but he's quickly ripped away to another world, another time.

A prison. He's in chains. There's a man wearing a Fire Nation uniform in front of him and his heart pounds in his chest. Not with fear, something else. _Love_.

"_You're the Avatar,"_ the man says and disappears in a cloud of black smoke as Jinhai is pulled away.

A thousand memories from a hundred lives flash behind his eyes. He's a woman and he's a man and he's covered in arrows before he's just a body with skin pale like snow. There's a thousand people, a thousand mentors, all whispering and shouting and pouring over him like the desert sun.

_You are the Avatar you are the Avatar youaretheAvataryou– _

Another voice, stronger, louder, deeper and more feminine, eclipses them. Something in him reaches for it, for the familiarity and the warmth and the feeling that he's _finally_ found the other half of his soul.

_He cannot destroy light anymore than I can destroy darkness._

_We will be together for all of your lifetimes. And we will never give up._

Jinhai's mind is pulled back to the physical world with a sharp tug. His body slams into the fruit stand and he feels the sweat building on his brow and upper lip as he swallows large gulps of air.

The glow hovers just beyond his reach.

He needs to get home. He's losing control again.

_In this we cannot fail._

His ascent up the stairs that lead to their apartment is loud and jerky and he falls more than once. A few tenants emerge from their rooms to yell at him but quickly retreat back inside with a gasp when they see the shine in his eyes. _Avatar_, they whisper. _It's not possible. Impossible. Gone. Dead._

_No, he danced on your bones–_

Jinhai chokes on a cry of terror as a phantom pain arrows through his heart. He clutches his chest, falls short of his own front door.

He stumbles forward and pounds on the wood gasping and gulping and straining against his own skin. _Please please please._

The door swings open and he falls into Hotaru's arms, clutching her shoulders like she's his lifeline. He's sobbing, terrified, a stranger in his own body.

He wants to go home.

He is home.

"_Jinhai! _Jinhai, what's wrong?"

He feels her touch on his cheeks, his back, his arms. It's cool and forgiving like water, calling to him like a summer song. Hotaru's fingers thread into the curls at the nape of Jinhai's neck and she twists and toys with them like she knows he likes. When they were younger, they'd curl into each other when one of them was sick and she always did this to comfort him. It has an immediate soothing effect that pushes away the voices and visions. He focuses on that, uses it to stop the light from pulling him further away. The shaking in his limbs subsides, but the fear does not.

"Tell me what's wrong," she says, soft and firm.

His fingers are still digging into her arms and his face is still buried in the crook of her neck. He can't let go. The visions have left him, but he knows something _other_ still lingers in his face. He's afraid to show her. He's afraid she'll leave.

He's afraid she'll hate what he's become, what he's always been. _You didn't ask for this. I'm so sorry._

"There were spirits in the woods," he whispers finally, voice shaking. "They attacked us."

"Is this your blood?" she asks, concern lacing her words.

He shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut as a memory of the spirit flashes through his mind. Its yellow eyes are a permanent stain on his mind. "Only some of it. Most of it's from one of the men that I tripped over."

Hotaru's hands tighten around his shoulders and he knows she's about to push him back. She's about to see. He doesn't stop her, but he does screw his eyes shut. _She can't see she can't see she can't see me._

"Jinhai, why are your eyes closed?"

Two hands cup his cheeks. A thumb across the space under his eyes. "Jinhai, open your eyes. _Look_ at me."

A muscle in his jaw ticks. Slowly, he reveals himself.

Hotaru's face is a painting of light and shadows. The crooked floor shakes under their feet like an earthquake announcing its arrival and a storm gathers between the walls of their small apartment.

Jinhai waits. He waits for her to push him away and curse him for abandoning the world. Tell him he's awful. She always was a true believer, the kind that prayed for the Avatar to return. She'll say he's undeserving of the honor bestowed upon him, terrible for allowing his reign to be forgotten. _What kind of Avatar disappears for almost twenty years?_

Or maybe, instead of being angry, she'll be disappointed that he is the Avatar. He, who was as crooked and selfish and morally-gray as they came. Excellent material for a criminal. Not an Avatar.

With her dream standing before her, not at all the regal leader in robes of emerald, would she hate him for ruining it?

Hotaru's fingers drift over his face, tracing the lines she knows by heart, as the white light in Jinhai's eyes fades–_finally_.

Her fingers stop at his cheekbones, which sit high and sharp on his face. They, along with his eyes, attest to his Fire Nation lineage. He watches her throat work as she swallows. He can't force himself to meet her gaze; whatever is there will break him.

"Who knows?" she asks slowly, filling the deathly quiet room.

Jinhai startles. "After I ran the spirits off, I left the other men. There were a few survivors. Not many. Only one or two. And some of our neighbors saw my eyes."

She nods. Finally, Jinhai gathers the courage he needs to look at her. She's got her thinking face on, the one that twists her nose up and feathers the fine skin in the corners of her eyes. If he weren't so consumed with his fear, he'd smile. He loves that face.

"We need to leave. Now. The men are going to tell Yao what they saw."

"What?"

Hotaru is moving, grabbing his rucksack and tossing essential belongings in it. A change of clothes. The small pouch with a few spare copper pieces. The clay figure he made for her birthday this year that was meant to look like one of the great lion turtles but resembles a hog monkey more.

"The men are going to tell Yao about you. You may have history with him but he's not going to prioritize that above the risk you now pose to his business."

Jinhai grabs a fistful of his hair and pulls. His mind, which had raced with knowledge from a hundred other people, now feels like its been stuffed with wool. Hotaru throws the rucksack over her back and comes to stand in front of him again.

She grabs his cheek, slaps it lightly.

"Jinhai, you need to snap out of it. We need to go. Yao probably knows by now."

"Hotaru–"

She clicks her tongue and grabs his wrist with a surprisingly strong grip. "You're the Avatar. Deal with it. Now let's go."

**iii. **

Hotaru is right.

Yao has men all over Xianghao looking for the prize fighter. Their threat hangs heavy over the city but Jinhai doesn't feel it, doesn't care for it.

He knows he could've easily taken them before he discovered he was the Avatar and his bending has only grown stronger in the hours since the spirits' attack. He's also past the point of feeling scared. Now, he just feels… _numb_.

They manage to avoid most of the footmen; the ones they can't, Jinhai takes care of quietly with the skills that previously made him so valuable. The familiarity of bending and combat helps chase away the fear of the unknown.

Finally, when the sun begins to rise, they reach the woods outside of Xianghao's walls. They are relatively unharmed and completely exhausted. There is no time to stop for sleep or rest for even a moment.

"Yao will spread the news," Hotaru says. "It won't take long for people to hear that the Avatar is alive. At this point, he won't care who kills you. You pose a threat to all of the crime organizations. They'll put aside their differences to work toward a common goal."

"Why are you so calm about this? How do you know where to go? What to do?" he asks quietly.

She looks at him over her shoulder. Her mouth is hard and her gaze faraway, focused. "I didn't come to the orphanage until I was six, Jinhai. I still remember things," she says. "Keep moving. We need to put distance between us and them."

Jinhai doesn't press further. He knows not to. There'd been a time before Hotaru, no matter how short of a time it seemed.

He'd been at the orphanage his entire life, always too unruly to adopt out. He was too colicy as a baby, too unruly as a toddler, and by the time Hotaru arrived he was unwilling to separate himself from the only person who'd ever truly felt like family. There were times they'd touched on their lives before each other–how the children tormented him, the way her mother's hair smelled–but neither really wanted to discuss it.

It hadn't mattered. They'd found each other and that was all they needed.

Even now, with the morning chill on their ears and noses and their eyes raw with exhaustion, Jinhai still feels the same.

He's the Avatar. He'll be expected to master the elements. Save the world. Whatever else the role entitled.

He looks at the way the sun turns pieces of Hotaru's hair red and gold, wipes away a sleepy smile with the back of his hand. He can't help it, can't help the thought.

_We're gonna be okay. As long as I have her. As long as she has me. We'll be okay._

**iv. **

The news strikes the Earth Kingdom like lightning.

_The Avatar is–_

_Alive. _

_He is alive. _

Bounty hunters and assassins find themselves gainfully employed by crime syndicates. Their orders: Kill the boy on sight. Fear and greed motivate the world now and strangers who vaguely resemble the rumored Avatar die in dark alleys, gutted and flayed.

None of them are the right target, though.

The temples do not flare with light. They do not announce the birth of a new Avatar in the ruins of the once great Fire Nation.

And so the murders continue.

The _daofei_ aren't the only ones searching, though. There are others who remember the reign of the Avatar.

They are still searching. They never stopped.

**v.**

His boots echo against the concrete floor of the warehouse, a sharp, orderly tap that keeps perfect time with the steady beat his heart. The admiral hates this base camp–it's always full of sand and bugs when he visits and he only ever comes here when the sandbenders are stirring up too much trouble for the stationed men to handle, which is a big enough problem on its own. To add to his frustrations, this so-called emergency forced him to leave the sabbatical he'd taken with his wife on Whale Tail Island.

He reassures himself he won't be here for long. Once he settles whatever conflict the sandbenders have created, he can return to his wife and enjoy the remainder of their vacation.

The general in charge of the central kingdom base sent him a messenger hawk a few days ago. Apparently, whatever the conflict was, it wasn't something that could be handled alone and the details couldn't be relayed over messenger hawk.

Two _jian_ blades swing at his sides and bump against his hip when he stops before the doors to the interrogation room. They're more for decoration than anything else. His real weapons are his hands, the two sharp knuckles of his pointer and middle finger.

The admiral opens the doors, smooths out the lines in his face until he's the fearsome leader ready to inflict justice.

Inside, three of his men are waiting. There's a one-way window that separates them from the prisoner in the other room. A short look at the captive tells the admiral that he's from one of the sand tribes and he's likely a bender if the level of restraints are anything to go by.

"General Shu," the admiral greets cooly. "Private Feng and Ki. Care to explain what is so important that it requires my immediate attention?"

Private Feng swallows and steps forward. "We received a report that there was a murderer on the loose in the villages north of the desert at the beginning of last week. General Shu deployed myself and Ki to investigate. When we arrived, we discovered that there were nearly seven victims in total and the killer had a very specific modus operandi. The victims were all in their late teens or early twenties, male, and of mixed origin. Further questioning told us that they were all of both Fire Nation and Si Wong ancestry."

Feng pauses and scratches the back of his neck. The admiral resists a frown as the soldier struggles to find his words.

"When we captured him and interrogated him, we thought he was lying, sir. No one has seen or heard of the Avatar in _years_–"

The admiral slices into the boy with a molten gaze. "What," he murmurs, quiet like a storm, "did you just say?"

General Shu steps forward, places a hand on his old friend's shoulder. "I know it's hard to believe. But we got in touch with the other bases around the continent before we contacted you and they all have similar reports. They all say the Avatar is back. There was a spirit attack outside of a city north. Apparently the boy was apart of a team of footmen transferring opium. The attack triggered the Avatar State and the boy hasn't been seen since. He's gone underground. And for good reason, too, since this sandbender is one of many out to get him. As of right now, we have every reason to believe that Kei didn't die while in the Avatar State. You didn't–you didn't kill the Avatar, Jiro."

Admiral Ty Jiro looks at the sandbender whose snarling and spitting at the mirror ferociously. There are so many more just like him hunting the Avatar, desperate to squash out a speck of light in the dark.

A weight he'd carried for twenty years lifts from his shoulders. There was always the guilty, nagging thought that _he_ pulled her attention away from the battle, that it was _his_ fault she died, that _he_ didn't move fast enough, that there were a thousand and one things he could've done to save her life and he didn't do them.

He was young and stupid with a skewed view of the world when he'd met Kei. The Fire Nation had twisted history and his morals to suit its needs and she had been the one to teach him the truth of the world. He was happily married now, but he and his wife, Jia, spent plenty of time discussing his relationship with the last Avatar and the deep scars it'd left on his soul. She'd blown into his life like a storm, destroyed him and everything he believed in, and left him to clean up the mess when she was gone. Her death destroyed him and Jia was the one who helped piece him back together.

Yet despite the pain she'd caused and all the years that had passed–he still loved her. And he owed her a debt.

Jiro lets loose a controlled breath.

"Then we need to re-evaluate resources and manpower. Our top priority is finding the Avatar."

_I won't fail you. Not this time. _

**vi.**

"I don't understand how you think this is going to help me," Jinhai grumbles, pulling the lip of his cowl over the lower half of his face.

In the chilly morning, it looks like a simple gesture to fight off the frost–not to conceal his identity. He rolls back on the balls of his feet, feels the instinct to run, though he's not sure where. _Anywhere but here,_ he decides. He has no interest looking at a dead girl's belongings.

Hotaru tugs on his arm. Even though they've been living in the wilderness for coming on nine days, she still looks beautiful and her eyes are bright with excitement. "Come on. Aren't you the least bit curious about one of your past lives?"

Jinhai scowls at the door frame and the beautiful golden plaque that sits above it. He wants to fight her further on this but one more look at that crooked smile does him in. "I didn't even know I had past lives until a week ago. It's kind of hard to have an attachment to something I didn't even know existed," he grumbles as Hotaru drags him into the museum.

Three years after Avatar Kei died, the city of Gaoling built a museum in her honor. There was a global effort to erect as many Avatar monuments and statues as possible since many were destroyed during the airbender genocide. While some of the past Avatars–notably, the surviving Air Nomads built a beautiful shrine for Avatars Aang and Yangchen in the Northern Air Temple where they'd agreed to try to rebuild their civilization–were built, most were styled for Kei, the young swampbender who'd taken on a tyrant and won.

(Or lost, depending on which way you looked at it. Fire Nation loyalists liked to argue that while she may have ended Azulon's life, he'd also ended hers. Most of the world wasn't aware of the Yuyan's involvement and thought Kei died via a lightning bolt to the chest. They also had no idea that Kei used bloodbending to end the Fire Lord's life. That detail had been kept between Jiro and Mela and Azulon's death was pinning on internal bleeding that'd been caused from being thrown around the capital like a ragdoll.)

Hotaru decided that a field trip to the museum built for his most recent life would help give him perspective. They hadn't discussed what their next step was but he thought that adjusting to the idea that he was the Avatar and acknowledging the massive shift in his life was a decent enough plan for the present.

Jinhai remembers the time after her death. Despite her short reign, she was loved greatly and mourned thoroughly. It wasn't until he was ten or so that her name slipped from daily conversation. Unlike Hotaru, he wasn't in awe with the Water Avatar; frankly, he thought she'd done more harm than good and always held a bitter spot for her in his heart. She'd abandoned him, and a million other orphans like him, to fend for themselves against war lords and crime bosses and starvation.

Now that he's Avatar–now that he _knows _he's the Avatar–he holds a different kind of respect for the girl. The bitterness is gone and is filled with a hollow understanding.

He doesn't remember his own Avatar State. In fact, Jinhai has no clue how he chased off the spirits and left the forest at ground zero.

But he does remember the visions that came after. He remembers Kei in the Avatar State as she fought the Fire Lord. He remembers how it burned so hot and bright in her blood and there was the knowledge that there would _never be another person on the planet as long as she breathed _who would understand what it was like to hold so much power in the confines of her mortal body and soul. How painful it was to hold the ability to destroy and create worlds in her hands, to endure it without breaking.

Jinhai shivers, not at all from the cold.

A power like that, so great and terrible, is a terrible burden to carry alone. He squeezes Hotaru's hand a little harder to remind himself that he doesn't have to.

Today, the museum is relatively empty. There are a few tourists but mostly it's just them and a bored teenager sitting behind the front desk, tallying down the number of people who enter the establishment in one day on a piece of parchment. There _is_ a girl in the corner inspecting a piece of art depicting Kei and a group of freed airbenders, but she's easy to overlook once Jinhai begins the peruse the displays.

It's only one room, albeit a large one with a vaulted ceiling and elaborate carvings in the moulding. The more Jinhai looks, the more he realizes that the museum isn't just a shrine to Kei but also a tribute to the swampbenders who'd been destroyed as collateral damage in the Twenty Year War and the airbenders who still were a rarity in the world. In the wooden frame that surrounds the mural depicting Kei's life, there are carvings of vines and screeching birds woven around soft waves.

Jinhai stops in front of the mural, takes in the soft brushstrokes with vivid bursts of color. A strange feeling worms its way into his chest when he looks at the beginning of the mural and sees a picture of a large, towering tree_._

"The First Tree," he murmurs, his fingers twitching to reach out and trace lines of its black roots.

"Hmm?" Hotaru hums and Jinhai balls his hands as his side. He shakes his head and says nothing in return.

He feels angry with himself, though he can't exactly pin why. Something keeps prickling the back of his mind, like a fly that keeps buzzing around his ears, and the frustration builds in him. It's _something_ and he doesn't know what it is.

When he's done looking at the mural that, despite his best efforts, strikes a chord of familiarity in him, he moves onto the mannequin that holds a set of worn battle armor. It's made primarily of leather, though chainmail is woven into it, and pieces of it are stained a dark color.

Jinhai's stomach churns when he realizes its blood and he desperately pushes away the memory of Kei's death, of lightning and life rushing beneath his fingers and the tip of an arrow in his chest. The sign below the armor identifies it as the set she wore into battle not only against Fire Lord Azulon but also in her campaign to liberate the bending prisons.

A bow and quiver are mounted on the wall next to the armor. Jinhai feels a ghostly touch on his arms and shoulders and, if he closes his eyes, he's sure he'll hear someone whispering in his ear as they teach him the proper technique. A male voice. A father, one who obviously isn't his because he doesn't have one.

"Hotaru," he says, suddenly feeling sick to his stomach. It's all so surreal. Somewhere in him lives the soul who'd done these things, worn this armor, lived this life.

"Are you okay?" she asks immediately as she looks at him, his tan skin several shades paler than it usually is.

He shakes his head. He's buzzing in his skin, his soul several inches outside of his body, like its lagging behind whenever he takes more than a few steps.

"I'm… I think I'm gonna be sick," he whispers.

His hands shake. Hotaru takes them in her own, which are so, so warm against his freezing skin.

She's touching his face, but he can't really feel it. There are voices, but they're far away. He doesn't feel like he truly exists, rather lives in a strange state of limbo that's neither here nor there.

_Jinhai. Jinhai. Jinhai. Are you alright, sir? _

A new voice, soft the way he thinks clouds must be, pulls him from purgatory. He blinks slowly, drags his gaze from a fidgety Hotaru to the stranger.

It's a girl. Jinhai latches onto her, takes catalogue of her features and counts them the way one might count tiles. One nose. Two eyes. Two ears. All accounted for. His breaths stop burning in his chest. A few freckles dot her cheeks and forehead but otherwise its all smooth skin. Nothing to count there. No scars. Feeling returns to his fingertips. A normal mouth with one top lip and one bottom. Neither half overshadows the other. The fog leaves his mind and his thoughts become sharper. Two long, slender arms and though he can't see her legs through the silk gown she wears, he does count two feet at the bottom of her dress. One. Two. Two. One. Count.

(It's an odd technique that, surprisingly, Yao taught him when he first started fighting in the ring. He was prone to panic attacks that made him freeze and his former boss had taught him to count people and their features like one would count money until they weren't scary anymore. Though the strange girl isn't the object of his fear, he counts her anyway because the method still brings him a sense of peace and control.)

When Jinhai makes his way back up to her eyes, he pauses. He hadn't taken stock of the color when he'd first counted them. But there's something about her eyes, which are a deep, unusual shade of violet, that reaches into him and chases away the remaining panic.

Suddenly, with his irrational fear gone, he feels very stupid. He scratches the back of his neck and adverts his eyes with embarrassment.

"Um," he stammers. "I'm sorry."

The girl smiles with a closed mouth. There's no judgement in her eyes. She removes a hand from his shoulder, which he hadn't realized she'd placed there to begin with, and tucks a loose piece of very long, shiny black hair behind her ear. She's wearing a pale green _hanfu_ dress that covers her from heel to wrist to neck.

Jinhai resists the blush that tries to sear across his face. _And he just had to have an attack in front of one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen. _His eyes slide to Hotaru and the blush spills into his complexion. If he's lucky, it's not strong enough to overpower his tan.

"No worries," she says before gesturing to the room with a hand hidden by the sleeve of her dress. "This place can be overwhelming to newcomers. There's a certain energy here than can sneak up on you if you're not prepared for it."

He nods and swallows hard. "Yes. Absolutely."

"Are you new to the city?" she asks.

Jinhai's spine stiffens. "No, not at all. Why do you want to know?" _Danger. Yao. Run, _his mind says.

The girl shrugs. Jinhai feels Hotaru shift so she's standing behind him. He reaches for her hand and holds it, hidden between them. "You just don't look like you're from around here." She nods at his clothes, which are still covered in coal dust from his shift at the quarry nearly two and a half weeks ago. There are also the dirt spots from sleeping on the ground while they travelled. Jinhai relaxes a little. Who could this girl hurt anyway? There was something so–_soothing, subdued, placating?_–about her. "Not a lot of mining around here. We're a white collar bunch. And we've all been to the museum at least once in our life. It's kind of hard not to when Avatar Kei grew up a few miles north of here and we all owe so much to her."

"Oh, well, we're from around here," Hotaru buts in when Jinhai struggles to come up with something that doesn't sound absolutely stupid. He's gnawing on his tongue, which seems to have grown in triple in size. _Idiot. Stupid idiot._ "One of the nearby villages, technically, but it's just simpler to say Gaoling, you know? We just returned from visiting family up north in Omashu. Long journey. We had some trouble with bandits. We're pretty tired so I think we'll be going. Thank you for your concern. It was nice meeting you."

Hotaru leaves no room for argument and Jinhai knows if he looks at her, she'll have that look on her face that dares the stranger to challenge her. The girl's eyes flicker. There's something there, something knowing, that unsettles Jinhai. Especially when her gaze slowly drifts from the battle armor behind him to his peculiar eyes. _Neither this nor that._ "It was no problem. If you find you need help while you're in the city, feel free to come to the Chen Estate. We'll be more than willing to house you while you're here."

The girl bows, stooping low enough that both he and Hotaru can see the top of her head, and leaves. The teenager at the information desk smiles and waves. _A regular, then._

Her feet make no sound on the marble floors and breeze keeps the museum doors open a beat longer than they should be. Jinhai shivers and watches the girl disappear into the morning.

The pair let loose a collective breath.

Hotaru smacks Jinhai's shoulder. He flinches and makes a noise of protest.

"You thought she was pretty."

He snorts and throws an arm around her shoulder before bringing her close. The noose which had sat snug against his throat moments ago has slunk inward and coiled itself around Jinhai's heart. It's easier to hide, easier to smile and put Hotaru at ease, but there's still the feeling that Jinhai is missing… something. He swats around his head for the fly that buzzes by his ear but hits air.

"Not at pretty as you, beautiful girl."

**vii.**

Hotaru and Jinhai find an abandoned textile factory to camp out in while they decide what move to make next. It's not the cleanest or safest place they've ever stayed but when Hotaru makes a joke about slumming it like in the good ol' days, Jinhai decides its no better or worse than the apartment they had in Xianghao.

He has Hotaru and that's all he needs to make a home.

"I suppose we need to find you a firebending teacher," she says over a dinner of boiled beans and half-eaten bread.

Jinhai hums. They cooked dinner over an open fire which still flickered in front of them. He used kindling and flint to light it just like he had in the countless years before he _knew_ but he considers that if he really wanted to, he could reach out and make it his own. Fill it with his life and force it into his will.

He _is_ a firebender. That's a fact now. The one thing that had truly scared him as a child finally found a way to become truth. But he was also a waterbender now. And an airbender. So did the fire still burn a cruel path in his blood? Or did the water and air and earth stamp it out?

His gut tells him no.

"I don't know where we'll find one. Firebenders have been banned to the islands since the war ended. They're about as rare as airbenders in the mainland. And then there's the issue of making sure they don't sell me out to the highest bidder. No one wants an Avatar anymore. Let's face it."

"You're the most negative person, Jinhai. _I _didn't want a world without the Avatar. And I knew plenty of people who wanted one. They were just too afraid to say anything and risk angering the gangs. I'll find you a firebending teacher. No one says no to this face."

When he looks at her, she's pulling the corners of her mouth apart with her index fingers hooked in the sides and her eyes are crossed. Jinhai snorts, lets loose a bubbling laughter that soothes the soul.

**viii.**

"Papa, I have news."

"And what is it?"

"You told me to tell you if I saw a boy who looked like this–" Paper flutters as the wanted poster is pulled from inside her dress. "–at the museum. There was a boy. He looks exactly like the paper and he even had a companion like they said he might. I followed them after they left. They're staying in a warehouse in the importing district."

"Very good, little bird. I'll be sure to have the servants bring you an extra treat dinner tonight… Son?"

"Yes, father?"

"Take her back to her room and be back in twenty minutes. We need to discuss how we want to handle the Avatar."

* * *

_tbc._


	9. Book Three, Part III: Earth

**Synopsis:** Aang recieves a vision of the future during the storm in which he freezes himself and is presented with a choice: Envoke the Avatar State and remain frozen for one hundred years or drown and reincarnate so the next Avatar can save what remains of his people post-genocide. The choice is not easy. It takes a full cycle to bring the world back to peace.

**Author's Note: **in this chapter, i introduce a closer look at hotaru's disablity. (i.e., epilepsy.) i had my stepdad read this before posting because he deals with siezures due to a (benign) brain tumor so i've done my absolute best to write an acccurate represenation. there are multiple kinds of siezures a person can experience–my stepdad deals with focal onset but there are also absence, tonic-clonic, atonic, and so on–so if you'd like to read more about what hotaru's condition is inspired by, here it is: her illness is inspiried by generalized tonic-clonic siezures, alternatively known as grand mal siezures and what you typically think of when someone says they've had a siezure. it involves convulsions and a loss of conciousness, among other symptoms and is usually caused by abnormal electrical activity in the brain. so while hotaru (ahem) deals with them due to a bending-related reason, this is what her symptoms and experience is based off of.

i know i have a couple of consistent readers on this story because there's quite a few following/favoriting, but not very many of you are reviewing. i hate to ask, but your reviews really motivate me to write more, so if you guys could leave one, i'd be really grateful. even if it's only a few words or a sentece about your thoughts on the chapter. we writers are vain bastards, kind of like tinkerbell, and we wither up and die without reassurance that what we're writing doesn't suck. all jokes aside, please leave a review. it doesn't take long and i don't think it's a lot to ask.

* * *

**BOOK THREE: EARTH  
PART III  
**_AVATAR JINHAI_

_Hell is empty and all its devils are here._

**i.**

Jinhai snatches Hotaru's elbow and steers her to an alleyway tucked out of sight. Here, the air is damp and conversation is muted. Laundry hangs strung up on twine above them and mist rises from the rooftops as the morning dew evaporates in the winter sun.

"Any news?" he asks.

"No," Hotaru growls, frustrated, and blows a chunk of hair off her forehead. She throws her hands in the air, stops her foot. Jinhai smiles. "If I mention the word firebender anywhere, people just start spitting and cursing the entire damn race. It seems that the occupation, no matter how short, really left a lasting taste in people's mouths. What about you?"

Jinhai grins–wide and proud–and flashes the pocket on the side of his jacket, which is full of coins and trinkets that'll catch a decent price at an antiques shop. "Like taking candy from a baby."

"If we weren't starving and you weren't the Avatar, I would never condone this. You know that right? But if a hot meal doesn't sound so good right now…" she trails off with a hungry moan.

He shrugs, his own mouth watering at the thought of something not dug out of a dumpster. "What are you in the mood for tonight? We could get some good old fashioned Southern Water Tribe noodles. It's been a while since we had some."

"If I may, I suggest trying Kesuk's Shop. They have the best seaweed wraps."

Jinhai jumps and his fist closes. His instincts bring a squadron of stones under his control, ready to launch themselves at whoever has snuck up on them. His short time on the run has made him jumpier and more jaded than usual, though that doesn't account for much.

When he sees it's only the girl from the museum, the one with the violet eyes, he doesn't relax; in fact, he only bristles further.

"What are you doing here?" he asks, working to relax his jaw so his words don't sound so harsh.

She smiles. It's that same smile. Two days ago, it was relaxing. Now, it's just unnerving. Jinhai doesn't like the way she stands, the way she holds herself. It's otherworldly and unfamiliar. She doesn't move like any other human he's met; there are no errors or hiccups, simply a smooth stream of motions that continues uninterrupted by even gravity.

"I thought I heard your voices," she says, her red mouth curling into a pleasant, hollow smile. "And I wanted to say hello, as well as re-extend my offer to host you at my master's estate."

"I think we'll be fine," Hotaru says stiffly. Her chin is lifted proudly and her eyes are narrowed, honed in on the stranger's hidden, folded hands. Jinhai knows she doesn't trust the girl–he doesn't either–but there's something different, more vicious, about the way she stands tall now.

"Don't be silly. The Chen Estate has graciously extended you an invitation that most would kill for. It has to be better than whatever hole you're staying in now. If you come with me, we can serve you more Water Tribe noodles than your stomach can handle."

Hotaru steps forward. A sheen of sweat has appeared on her forehead and when the ground groans beneath him, Jinhai knows why. A lance of worry pierces through him and he wants to reach for her, tell her to stop before she's sick, but she's too far gone into whatever protective rage has possessed her. He can see the tension in her shoulders and back, the power that begs to be released somewhere. If he grabs her, it could just as easily set her off or startle her.

"We don't know you. We don't even know your name. I think you need to leave. Now."

The girl falters, a look of panic flashing across her face before it settles into the same smooth face, before stopping a few feet in front of them. Jinhai watches, waits, settles into the neutral jin earth is so well known for. He positions himself behind Hotaru, ready to catch her if she falls, and keeps a steady grip on the earth in case he needs to fight off the purple-eyed girl.

"My name is Dorjee. Like I told you, I'm a ward of the Chen Estate. We've been receiving news of pickpockets in the area," she tries again. Her eyes flicker to the clunky bulge under Jinhai's coat. He shuffles, moves to hide the stolen coins and goods, before Hotaru grips his wrist. "I'd hate to have to report you. I know you've got people looking for you."

"You're threatening us into staying with you at the Chen Estate? Why?"

The girl shakes her head. "Not threatening. Suggesting."

The stones and mortar in the walls surrounding them rattle like skeletons rolling over in their graves. The sound of glass shattering and exploding fills the void. She doesn't need control when she's rippling raw power.

"You need to go," Jinhai says, voice quiet like the beat before thunder, and wraps a hand around Hotaru's elbow. A small stream of blood trickles from Hotaru's nose and settles on her upper lip. Her jaw is tight and her eyes are foggy and her breathing is that certain shallow halt and gasp just before–

Hotaru's jaw locks shut. The dash of blood on the inside of her lips says she's bitten her tongue–_again_–and her fists are clenched so tightly that knuckles are white.

He catches her when she falls, her muscles too tight to hold her upright. When the rigidity stops, the thrashing begins. This is the part everyone screams at. This is the part everyone cries, _Demon!_

Jinhai expects Dorjee to do the same. She's ward of a wealthy house and they never found peace or solitude among Xianghao's rich. (In fact, Yao was the only one who'd taken Hotaru in stride, but perhaps that was a conversation for another time.)

Instead, she sweeps forward, crouches to the ground so the muddy alleyway stains the pale peach color of her dress stains black.

"Can I help?" she says softly and comfort returns. When he doesn't respond, she takes off her arm wrap and offers it to him. Without words, he takes it and bundles it into a cushion for her head as her eyes continue to blink at rapid fire.

Jinhai's throat feels tight as one minute ticks by and a second follows. Slowly, when a third comes to a close, she stops. Only her foot stays in motion, jerking every ten seconds or so.

_They never last this long. Have they been getting worse and she didn't tell me? Has she been taking her medicine? Why wouldn't she tell me?_

"Do you… do you know of an apothecary nearby that you could purchase a chi-blocking herb from?" he whispers and takes Hotaru's hand in his. Gently, he tries to massage the fingers from their clenched position. "It's called valerian root."

He looks up, stares those into those purple eyes and searches them. Within himself, he seeks out the brightest, fiercest piece, the one he'd always thought was only his inner strength.

When he finds it, he asks: _Can I trust her?_

The reply: _Yes_.

"There's one a few blocks west. I'll be back as soon as I can, Avatar."

Dorjee leaves and Hotaru slowly gains consciousness again. She blinks slowly and her words are tangled and confused, low murmurs that he can't hear but understands nonetheless.

"It's alright. You're alright," he says and holds her to his chest. He scrapes the hair from her forehead and wipes her mouth with the corner of his shirt.

It's not until Dorjee returns that her words truly hit home. Every instinct says to run and hide and fight and do whatever it takes to get away, but the brightest part of him calms him and reassures him.

_Yes. Yes. Yes._

But, first, he feeds the valerian root to Hotaru; it's in a powder form that Dorjee had thought would be consumed easily with a cup of lychee juice. He knows it was expensive, likely costing everything he'd stolen that day, but he doesn't care about costs or debts right now.

When Dorjee blends it into a cup and offers it to him, he hesitates. It could be something else. It could be poison and she could be one of Yao's more subtle assassins. She'll kill Hotaru and then attack him. Can I trust you?

Dorjee meets his stare. A girl's voice as sharp and strong as a steel blade says, _Yes_.

"You called me Avatar," he says.

Dorjee swallows. "Yes."

"Is that why the Chen Estate wants me?"

"Yes."

"Do you work for Yao?"

"No."

"Why do you want to help us?"

"My master thought the Avatar was gone like everyone else. He has connections in the underground market. That's how we heard about you. I kept an eye out for you at the memorial. You're more use alive than you are dead."

A pause. The girl in his arm moans and her eyes twitch under their lids. "Will the Chens help Hotaru?"

"They'll do their very best."

"Then let's go."

**ii.**

From a distance, the Chen Estate is breath-taking. It's surrounded by a landscape of green grass and crystalline ponds and flowers brighter than the deepest dyes. Carefully trimmed trees–a vision of a massive, wild banyan-grove tree flashes behind his eyes before evaporating–rise up from the ground and grant their shade in neat rows. It's unlike anything he has seen before, although he's sure Hotaru has seen her fair share of beautiful properties when she mended and embroidered clothes for Xianghao's aristocracy.

Men in silver and green uniforms stand in front of the front gates. None of them are armed, so Jinhai assumes that they too are earthbenders. The house's sigil, an armadillo bear, is gilded into the gate and its large silver teeth glint when the sun hits them just right.

"Good afternoon, Wen," Dorjee says to a guard with eyes brown like the soil. "Send someone ahead and tell Master Chen that I've arrived with the Avatar and his companion. The girl requires a doctor so send for one, will you?"

Wen nods and whispers to his partner. The other man disappears under the ground, the earth opening up to swallow him whole. Jinhai blinks and looks from the spot back to Dorjee.

She smiles. "The men find that it's easier to get around with their bending. Don't be alarmed. I'm sure if you asked, one of them would teach you how."

The silver gates inch open, silent as their well-oiled hinges work.

A stone path leads them up a long driveway. The house is the size of his hand, positioned near the center of the property.

Hotaru's is nestled in his arms as he carries her up the path. She's asleep, her fit having taken all she had and more, but he knows he'd be carrying her regardless of whether she was awake or not. After he fed her the valerian root, he and Dorjee had set off the the Chen Estate with an unspoken agreement that she would not harm him and in turn he wouldn't unleash the fury of a threatened Avatar.

Neither he nor Dorjee try to make small talk. He's exhausted–mentally, physically, emotionally. His entire life was uprooted and thrown into the storm less than two weeks ago. Jinhai had been so confused and hurt and scared. He knew Hotaru had seen this and guilt settles in his gut as he considers how much his discovery had affected her, too. It was more than likely his fault that her most recent fit was his fault.

A butler opens the estate's front doors for them, which are as grand and beautiful as the gates. They look to be made of jade–or perhaps just covered in a layer of it–with the same silver accents.

"Mistress Dorjee," the butler says, bowing deeply with his thumb pressed into his palm. "Masters Ju Long and Ahn are in the greeting room ready to receive the Avatar once his companion has been seen to."

"Excellent. Niu, will you take them to the doctor, then? I need to change before Papa and Ahn see the state that my dress is in."

"Of course, Mistress."

Dorjee disappears into a hall to the right. Jinhai watches her go with wary eyes, feels the hammering of his pulse as he enters a lion's den. Feet sliding over wood floors, he follows the man down a long hallway decorated with beautiful artifacts from across the world. Most of the house, except for its stone exterior, is made of wood that looks like it was imported from one of the other nations–likely the Fire Nation–and it provides an eerie sensation of divorce from the earth.

He looks down at Dorjee whose forehead is tucked against his chest. Not that a little distance could stop her from summoning an earthquake.

And wood burned easily. He'd firebent once when he was trying to claw his way out of the river. He could do it again if he needed to, couldn't he?

Niu leads them to a room with high ceilings and a wall of windows that allows the daylight to fall in. A woman in white garments waits by a four-poster bed. When Jinhai lays Hotaru down, the woman immediately hovers over her.

She pulls water from a bowl which wraps around her hands and begins to glow a bright, pure blue. _A waterbender healer._

Easy enough to find in this part of the Earth Kingdom. Thousands of southerners were displaced during the Twenty Year War while the Fire Nation searched for the Avatar in the Water Tribes.

He's not sure how long he stands there, watching the wordless woman push and pull the water over Hotaru's body, but eventually Niu clears his throat and says, "Master Chen is ready to receive you. I assure you, Healer Kurin will do a fine job of healing whatever ails your companion. I can bring you back to her, once your meeting is adjourned."

Jinhai waits a moment longer than he should to respond. Since fighting the spirits in the woods and entering the Avatar State, his mind had been plagued by visions that seemed to occur when they wished to. Earlier, it was the tree. Now, all he saw was an airbender hovering over him and a searing phantom pain that chased through his body.

"Alright," he tells Niu, turning to face the older man. "Let's meet the men who so generously took us in."

He feels like his soul is displaced several inches outside of his body. His fingertips buzz and he wants nothing more than to return to Hotaru, but he knows that's not possible.

The greeting room turns out to be just as ornate as the rest of the home but touches in the design are obviously there to set guests at ease. A fireplace that crackles softly in the corner is surrounded by an intricately carved wooden mantle with dragons and badgermoles shaped into the surface. There are three sofas with emerald green upholstery and vases of native Earth Kingdom flowers are placed wherever there is a free surface. Windows in the room allow for a bright and open space that _does_ effectively make Jinhai feels less trapped in the wooden house.

Jinhai sees Dorjee first. She's changed out of her clothes from before and freshened her makeup and stands with perfect posture that both minimizes the space she takes up and states her proper upbringing. A young man stands at her size with his arm wrapped affectionately around her waist. His hand sits just under her ribs and his eyes are the bright green that Northern Earth Kingdom nobles are known for. Movement from the other side of the room alerts Jinhai to an older man who shares obvious traits with the boy at Dorjee's side.

Frantically, Jinhai tries to remember the bow that Niu performed when greeting Dorjee earlier. Placing his thumb on and open palm, Jinhai bows as deeply as he can.

A loud, hearty laugh nearly sends Jinhai reeling out of his skin. The older man approaches Jinhai, face wrinkled with humor, and claps him on the shoulder.

"Well, I never thought I'd see the day that the Avatar bowed to me! There's no need for formalities, son. It is us that is honored to meet you."

Jinhai swallows and shifts his weight.

"But, introductions are in order. You've already met my ward, Dorjee. Let me introduce you to her fiancé and my son, Ahn."

Ahn takes a step forward, his hand lingering on Dorjee's waist, and smiles. It doesn't quite reach his eyes.

"I never thought I'd have the opportunity to meet the Avatar in my lifetime. It's an honor to meet you, Avatar." Ahn bows, a more refined version of Jinhai's lame attempt. "While you stay with us, let us know if you need anything at all. We aim to ensure that your visit is as pleasant as possible."

Unsure of what else to do, Jinhai nods his head in acknowledgement. "Thank you."

"My name is Ju Long Chen. I am the head of the estate. I know that you must feel incredibly uncomfortable and overwhelmed, but I want to reassure you that our main priority is helping you. Many have forgotten what the world is like with an Avatar in it but the Chen family has not. We only wish to help you along in your journey as Avatar."

"Um, well, thank you. Again." Jinhai scratches the back of his neck. He doesn't feel like an Avatar. Not selfless or brave or kind or true, like his predecessors. He's an orphan. And he doesn't deserve the Chen's help.

_You're an unwanted little brat and that's all you'll ever be, _Mama Lu always said.

"It's our pleasure," Ju Long says. "Now, Jinhai–may I call you that?"

The Avatar blinks. "That's fine."

"Well, Jinhai, as I was saying, we've heard our stories about you. But they were all told by _daofei_ that men in my employ had the displeasure of meeting. Rumor says that you entered the Avatar State outside of a city called Xianghao. Is this true?" Ju Long picks a piece of fruit out a bowl on a table near the entrance to the room and takes a seat on one of the sofas. He looks so at ease, a stark contrast to Jinhai's fidgety form.

Dorjee and Ahn take a seat on the couch adjacent to Ju Long, which leaves Jinhai as the only one standing. He gets the sudden feeling that he's an animal being lured into a trap before Dorjee smiles at him. It's a small tilt to the lips but it reassures him just enough.

"Uh, yes. That's correct. I was helping my… employer move a shipment when we were attacked by spirits."

"Spirits? That must've been terrifying. I'm not surprised, though. There has been an increase in attacks over the last twenty years, which is unusual. Spirits typically stay impartial to things in the physical world."

"There were rumors that the woods were inhabited by vengeful entities and there were several disappearances, but there was no real evidence. I didn't really keep up with it. I've never been… the most spiritual person, I guess. It's never struck my interest. I've always been more interested in what my hands can do rather than some spirits who live in an entirely different world."

"Well, every Avatar has their own path to create. It's not uncommon for those born into the Earth Cycle to be people of action. Kyoshi wasn't known for her peaceful negotiations and yet she presided over a very long era of peace. And Kei was, afterall, known as the Conqueror."

Jinhai's fists flex in his lap. Another vision eclipses his vision. He's in another's body this time, looking at a man with a long white beard and crimson red robes.

_Aang was there. He helped me survive. _

_He gave you access to our knowledge, our memories._

Swallowing the vision, he provides Ju Long with a nervous smile. "I guess. I'm still adjusting to the idea that I'm now some great savior."

"Of course. And like I said, the Chen household is entirely at your service. Whatever we can do to make the transition easier, we will. We only hope that you remember our service when you mature into your role."

**iii. **

The Chen's keep their word and they do as much as they possibly can to help Jinhai adjust to his new role.

A week is spent in their care recovering. Two weeks on the road and streets left both he and Hotaru in worse-for-wear shape.

The waterbender healer, Kurin, manages to mend something in Hotaru's body and provide insight to her condition. She finds him after his first meeting with the Chens and gives more answers in a few minutes than they've ever gotten in a lifetime of searching within Xianghao. (Although it should be noted that Xianghao did not have a waterbender healer; the closest thing to a doctor was an herbalist who had provided them with valerian root and charged an arm and a leg for it.)

"It's a chronic build-up of chi," Kiran says, arms crossed over her chest. They're standing in the hallway outside Hotaru's room and he takes the chance to observe her now that he's met his benefactors and know that his family is being taken care of.

Her hair, a dark deep brown that borders on black, is pulled into a more feminine style of a wolf's tail with two ponytails on each side of her face and a high tail that hung down her back in a thick braid. And her eyes remind him of the scales of the tropical fishes Yao kept in his office–a bright, startling turquoise that changed color in the light. While she looks to be at least ten years his senior, she's still stunning. Jinhai notes–somewhat skeptically and bitterly–that the Chen's seemed to have a knack for surrounding themselves with things of grandeur and beauty and status.

_A master waterbender healer. An elite security force. Invaluable artifacts from the other nations. A lost Avatar. And Dorjee._

But he had a feeling there was more to Dorjee than her pretty eyes and perfect manners, especially as he looked into Kiran's ocean eyes.

"Chi build-up isn't uncommon among earthbenders since earth requires the use of so much neutral _jin, _which can lead to blockages in the pathways. The fits Hotaru experiences are actually called seizures. It's still a fairly new discovery among healers so I'm not surprised that people thought she was possessed by a spirit."

Jinhai frowns and bites down on his bottom lip. "If it's just a blockage, why does she continue to get them? Is she going to stop having these now that you've seen her?"

Kiran shakes her head, her braid following the movement. "No. Some benders only experience it once, if at all, while others deal with them consistently like Hotaru. I can't tell you for sure why it varies so much in benders as I've only been able to briefly treat people with similar conditions, but I suspect it has to do with her sensitivity to the earth. She's likely bending or asserting her awareness at all times and that constant use causes the chi to build up when she's not actually _bending_. When there's too much chi in her body, she's forced to expel in with a large bending feat that drains it.

"But, on the other side of the coin, the build-up can also make it difficult to bend with control as it's constantly trying to rush out of the body as quickly as it can. It's not impossible, but it'll take a lot more work. I think learning could even benefit her health long-term and even prevent a disaster from occurring if she can control the rate she expels chi during an episode."

"How is it you know more about her in the ten minutes we've known you than the hundreds of doctors we've seen our entire lives?" Jinhai groans and drags a hand over his face. Relief sparks in his chest; for the first time ever, they had somewhere to go. He didn't have to worry she'd get so sick that she'd never recover. They had an answer, even if some of it was only speculation. That alone made their time with the Chen's worth it.

Kiran laughs. "I've traveled quite a bit and healed a lot of people. Don't be too hard on the healers you've seen. The Fire Nation destroyed and spread a lot of false information to prevent healers from being able to properly care for the wounded. Now, I helped push along some of the chi, which should help her for the time being, but she'll need to see a healer frequently if she wants to avoid another episode. I'll be at your disposal as long as you're at the estate, so just tell Niu and I'll be here as soon as possible. I also think she should consider beginning lessons with a master."

Jinhai nods and bows. This time, his form is a little better. Ju Long corrected it with a laugh at the end of their meeting. Even though Jinhai's ears burned red with embarrassment, he took it in stride and committed it to memory so he could avoid being laughed at again.

"I can't thank you enough," he says, swallowing a wierd, hard lump in his throat.

Kiran smiles and places a hand on Jinhai's bicep. "It was my pleasure. Just remember to contact Niu if you need me."

Their second week is less than relaxing, but Jinhai concedes that it needs to be done.

Ju Long arranges a party grand enough to rival the Earth King's birthday and sends out invitations.

"Leave all of the planning to us, son," Ju Long says, "and focus on learning a few firebending tricks to prove to the crowd who you are."

Jinhai wrinkles his nose. "Parlor tricks? Are you sure having a brand new firebender show off in an estate made of wood is smart?"

Ahn makes an agreeable noise. "I suppose we assumed it'd be the logical thing to do since fire is next in the cycle. But we could have Dorjee teach you a thing or two. Air would work all the same."

"Dorjee?"

The heir grins and the hair on Jinhai's neck bristles as light glints off his pearly whites. "Ah, yes. Our little bird is an airbender. Didn't you know?"

**iv. **

The next day, he and Dorjee begin what could be called 'airbending lessons', if what little information she offered could even be considered airbending. It takes less than an hour for her to show him what she knows, and only a few more for Jinhai to put it into practice.

(It's rather startling when he bends air for the first time and it feels nothing like earth. He yells and _accidentally_ sweeps Ahn out of his chair with a larger version of her hand tornado.)

Ahn sits closeby on a stone bench while Dorjee teaches Jinhai. When he learns all she has to offer and begins experimenting with air currents he could turn into full attacks, Ahn declares with a deceptively cheerful voice that Dorjee has a flute lesson to attend. His knuckles are white around her elbow as he escorts her back to the main estate. Jinhai frowns and weaves a leaf through his fingers.

The estate's heir reminds him of Mama Lu.

Dorjee misses dinner for three nights after she shows him how to airbend. When he asks Ahn where she went on the second night, he says, "Dorjee can be a sickly girl. She's resting in her room. Rest assured, we sent a servant to her quarters with something to eat. I'm sure she'll be feeling better soon."

When Dorjee returns to their world, she's quieter, if that's possible, and she smiles more. Large and wide with laughter that never, ever reaches her eyes. She avoids he and Hotaru like they're a plague.

Jinhai has his suspicions. He remembers smiling like that for Mama Lu. _Smile wide enough and you just might make it out alive. _But Dorjee is always with Ahn or nowhere to be found. He asks Hotaru to keep an eye out for the other girl; they both agree something is wrong. Neither seem to be able to get the girl alone.

"The gala is only in two weeks," Hotaru says. "I'm sure I can get her alone there. Ahn will be busy entertaining."

Jinhai grinds his teeth together so hard, he's surprised he hasn't cracked any. "Good. I don't want to stay here much longer after the gala. The Chens give me the creeps and we need to find a firebending teacher, anyway."

"I hope I can convince her to leave with us."

"Me, too. But we both know how hard it can be to leave behind someone like Ahn."

**v. **

After a full month of searching, the answer appears not in a report from one of his scouts but in an invitation from a wealthy estate in Gaoling. He has half a mind to throw it in the fire and not even read the rest of its contents once he sees a shiny, silver insignia on the front–those always mean trouble–but the day has been slow and he's read the rest of his mail for the day.

_ADMIRAL TY JIRO & TY JIA_

With a scoff, he flips the card over, running his thumb over the embossed armadillo bear mid-roar. Leaning back in his chair, he runs a hand over the gray stubble forming on his jaw. _Gray hair. _When did he get so old? It only felt like yesterday that he made an agreement with the Water Tribe Chieftains and the Earth King to search for the Avatar–if there was one–and ward off the _daofei_ and pirates closing in on their great cities.

_The Chen Estate cordially invites_

_you to attend our_

_GALA & CELEBRATION_

_for the discovery of a new Avatar_

_First of the New Lunar Year_

_Cocktails & Dinner — half past the seventeenth hour_

_Demonstration & Fireworks — twentieth hour_

"In the name of Oma's bastard children," he exclaims and slaps an open palm on his desk. Jiro blinks a few times, rubs his eyes, and then rereads the invitation. "You've got to be kidding me."

One of his men, Ki, pokes his head in through his office door. "Sir, are you alright?"

Jiro straightens in his chair. "No. Send my daughter a letter. Tell her to meet me in Gaoling. Tell her–I've found the Avatar."

**vi.**

Ahn is an arrogant, disgusting excuse for a man and Jinhai hates the way he looks at Hotaru. He hates everything about him, down to the colic in his hair that sits over his forehead, but its those spirits-damned eyes he hates the fucking most.

There's something in his gaze that reminds him of the spirits in the woods. It's oily and slick and completely, wholly predatory. Ahn looks at Hotaru like a starving dog who's finally been provided with a new meal. It's worst when Dorjee sits at Ahn's side. He knows what that look means and says. He knows what Ahn does.

He just can't seem to catch him doing it or get Dorjee to show him her wrists or legs for proof. Hell, he'd even take a pointing finger. It'd be all he needed to lay into the man and make sure he never got up again.

Jinhai's not the only one to notice. Hotaru finds shelter behind his shoulder whenever they're in the same room as the heir. He hides the way the earth shudders with her bending with a quick shift of his feet. It's not enough, though–not to hide it from Ahn, who's also an earthbender–and he smiles so his two rows of teeth shine behind curled lips.

Every time he stands next to the heir, a feeling slick and putrid spills over Jinhai's skin.

Even now, as they stand in Ahn's training grounds surrounded by miles of stone and earth, Jinhai can't get rid of the uneasy feeling Ahn's presence brings. It's in the eyes, in his posture, in the way he announces his presence. He's a poisonous snake with a beautiful, sparkling pattern painted on his back.

When Ahn challenges the Avatar to a friendly spar–though Ahn's smirk suggests he intends for it to be anything but friendly–Jinhai can't resist accepting.

He's met men–_boys_–like Ahn before, seen them in the fighters Yao provided.

They like pain. They like the way it smells, tastes, feels, the way it fills the air and runs thick like honey down their throat. It's as essential as air.

On the other side of the field, Ahn bounces on the balls of his feet and cracks his knuckles. His smile is wide and playful. His skin looks as pale and perfect as brand-new porcelain in the afternoon sun, pulled smooth and taught over muscle that hints at years of training.

"Make sure you've got the healer on hand, little bird," Ahn says loud enough for Jinhai to hear. He hates that name, little bird, and it's not even for him. "I don't think either of our competitive spirits is going to let us walk away unharmed." He grins at Jinhai, a conspiratorial thing that makes his skin crawl.

Dorjee nods. Jinhai sees her mouth move, but whatever she says is lost in the distance between them. Ahn grabs his fiancée's hand, brings it to his mouth so he can place a butterfly kiss on the soft blue veins of her wrist.

_Wish me luck_, his mouth says. The skin around his eyes feathers. He's lazy with arrogance when he lets her go.

Dorjee's spine goes stiff and her shoulders curve. _Small. Small. Make me small. _Jinhai clenches his fists.

"No, I don't think you'll be walking away from this in one piece," Jinhai says softly, quiet enough that the words remain between him and the presence in his mind that screams for Ahn's throat.

He never intended telling–or showing–the Chen's just how good of an earthbender he was. But Ahn's challenge and his grip on Dorjee's wrist enrages him so much that the edges of his vision nearly glow white.

When Kiran and few others from the estate's staff have gathered to watch their heir and Avatar battle, they begin. A challenge means nothing if there isn't a crowd to watch. This, both he and Ahn agree on.

Ahn's very clearly been trained by classical earthbenders. His stances are deep and wide and there's power behind his blows that Jinhai's own style lacks. For the most part, the heir says rooted to the ground and raises pillars of rock to deflect Jinhai's flying boulders instead of dodging or redirecting them.

Despite what he'd like to think, Ahn _is_ talented and his skills go past what can be taught. He's in tune with the earth and uses it as an extension of his body.

But there's an advantage to being taught by criminals–he knows how to exploit weaknesses and he loves doing it.

Jinhai pauses to catch his breath, two twin rocks hovering just outside his raised fists. Sweat and a little bit of blood drips in his eyes. HIs head is pounding, a friendly reminder that the rich brat had gotten the better of him and knocked him down more than once when he shifted the ground under Jinhai when he returned from launching a boulder with a sharp, airborne kick. After the third attack, Jinhai got the feeling that the other boy was toying with him and had sent two rocks toward him–one functioning as a decoy as the other barreled into his ribs.

Now as they both catch their breath, Jinhai watches as Ahn's hand curls into the fabric of his tunic just below his ribcage. It's a below-the-belt shot but Jinhai knows that if he can get the asshole in the air, he can push him back down with a quick blow to the area Ahn is nursing. It'd be an effective way to end the fight and leave an unspoken warning of what he'd do if he acted on his predatory instincts.

If Ahn's ribs weren't already broken, they would be; but first, Jinhai needs a distraction to get his awareness away the earth below him.

Using the rocks at his side, he grinds them into a new shape, a long cylindrical shape reminiscent of an airbender glider staff. He rushes forward, sidesteps a pillar that raises to his right, and launches himself. He turns once mid-air, gaining momentum, and then brings the staff around in a vicious arc that howls at it moves.

Air knocks Ahn off his feet and onto the ground. Jinhai suppresses a grin, stomps, and the other boy bounces high into the air when the earth below kicks him up. With another slash from his crude staff, air pushes Ahn back down. He screams on impact and even from this distance, Jinhai can hear the sound of bone breaking.

Those who had come to watch are frozen in their places while Ahn writhes on the ground.

No one has ever treated their master in such a way.

No one's ever held him accountable or truly challenged him.

Jinhai looks to Dorjee. He's not sure what he expects to see, but it's not his. She's rushing forward, falling to her knees to bring his head into her lap as Kiran pulls water from a flask at her side.

Kiran's hands glow as they work over Ahn's broken ribs. Jinhai's forehead wrinkles as he watches, completely and utterly confused. _Why is she helping that bastard?_

Hotaru grabs his elbow. She's the only one who's come to his side and not Ahn's.

He waits. He waits to Dorjee to look up and yell at him. If she's by his side, then… she cares for him. She'll be angry. Has he misread her? Has he misread Ahn? Maybe he's just reflected his own doubts and traumas onto two unrelated people. Maybe Dorjee really was just sick. And maybe she really just doesn't like him and Hotaru.

He's so confused. He waits for her to acknowledge him, tell him he went too far, tell him that he's cruel for hurting her fiancé.

But when she finally does look to him, all he sees is fear, watery in her wide eyes. Hunched shoulders. Tight jaw. The sleeve of her dress rides up to her forearm and it's there he sees them for the first time: the bruises that circle her wrists like bracelets of mottled lavender and ivy in all different stages of healing.

If Kiran sees them, she doesn't acknowledge them. If anyone sees them, they ignore it.

_Do they all know?_

His stomach curls and knots. Ahn will be angry. Jinhai injured his pride in front of his entire household. And the household… doesn't seem to care. Or perhaps they're just as afraid.

He underestimated the reach of Ahn's wrath.

Jinhai wonders if all he's done if make things worse.

**vii. **

Finally, the gala arrives. Niu shoves Jinhai into a green changshan with gold accents and forces one of the maids to attend to his hair, which they cut short around his ears and (temporarily) straighten so the loose curls aren't so wild.

He hates it and is constantly rubbing at it in an attempt to unstick it.

Whatever infinity he thought it'd taken for Niu to dress him was nothing in comparison to Hotaru. Jinhai waits outside her room, leaned against a wall as he inspects his nails.

Finally, the door inches open. With his gaze fixed on his shoes–which, much to his distaste, are tight and have thick soles that separate him from the ground even further–he sees the hem of Hotaru's dress first.

His breath catches before he even sees the rest of her. He already knows. He _knows. _

_Not now, you idiot. Not now. Bad timing. Shut up. Don't say anything stupid. Tell her she's pretty and move on with it. Don't–_

"Are you alright?" she asks, voice laced with concern. Her hands reached out and grabs his, and finally he's forced to look up.

He always thought Hotaru was beautiful but right then and there she looked… like something sent from the moon spirit. Completely ethereal. The maid had done something complex and wonderful with her hair so it was pulled back from her face. Usually, she liked to hide behind it, which he typically thought was cute, but now he couldn't understand why she was so shy. With nothing to shadow it, her eyes draw him in first. They are lined with charcoal that bring out the gray flecks in her green eyes. Then there are her lips, which are painted shade of pink. Blush had been rubbed on her checks to give her a flushed look and absently he notices that the maid had also clipped two massive jewels to each ear.

The high life suits Hotaru. He palms his cow lick, which, despite the efforts of many, still curled across his forehead. It does not suit him.

"I'm, uh, fine. Yeah. Fine. You look nice. Pretty. Beautiful, actually." He stammers over his words and resists the urge to smack his forehead. _Such an idiot. _

Hotaru laughs. "You clean up pretty well yourself." She reaches up and twists the stray curl on his forehead around her pointer finger. "Though I think I prefer your hair curly."

Jinhai scowls. "Niu thought it'd make me look more 'Earth Kingdom,' whatever that's supposed to mean. Desert tribes apparently aren't counted as apart of the country now. I put my foot down when he tried gluing my eyelids. Who the fuck glues their eyes? I don't care if monolids make me look more Fire Nation. They're _eyelids_. And I _am_ part Fire Nation." He sighs as Hotaru smiles at him and loops his thumbs together. Suddenly, his hands are very interesting. "What if they don't want me? Like _really_ don't want me. Y'know, my own mother didn't want me. And I didn't ask for this. I don't even know if I want this. But it's who I am. I'm trying my hardest to figure out how to be this all-powerful, holy spirit, but no one's even taught me how to be a good person. I _suck_ at being a good person. What if they don't want me, Hotaru? What if–"

"–you're not good enough?" she finishes for him. One hand reaches up to cup the side of his face and he leans into it. Hotaru hadn't had anyone there to teach her how to be good either and yet here she was, easily the best person he knew. "These people aren't your parents and, honestly, who cares what they think about you? They don't know you. They don't know what you've been through. But I know you. And you know you. And we both know that you've got a heart of gold. You protected me at the orphanage when they found out I was sick. And you continued protecting me when we lived on the streets."

"It wasn't entirely for selfless reasons. You're my family. I need you."

"Even if you don't see it, I do. You've got a good heart. I'm not just saying this because you're the Avatar now."

Biting his lip, he dares to question what the Earth Kingdom would do if they found out the rest of him. He vanished for twenty years. He didn't look like a traditional Earth Avatar–whatever that ideal was supposed to look like–and for most of his life he'd made a living by working for the biggest opium dealer in the northern hemisphere. And yet it wasn't any of these things that made him truly scared. Nervous, perhaps, but not scared.

His fear was reserved for something that only a few people knew about. It was why he'd been kicked out of the orphanage. It was why he'd never tell Hotaru–_I love you_–because something was broken in him and she deserved better than he could offer. Mama Lu, Hotaru, and the men he'd taken up in short-lived relationships or romantic affairs knew.

Jinhai was a good runner. He'd out-run more problems than he could count. But being the Avatar and _this_–those were two things that would never go away.

"What if they find out," he swallows, "that I've been with men too? That I've loved both men and women? They'll never have me."

"Avatar Kyoshi loved men and women, too, and she's the most celebrated Avatar the Earth Kingdom has ever had. There are close-minded people, Jinhai. There always will be. But you can't change who you love anymore than you can change what you are. You're the Avatar and you're bisexual. They can deal with it. You don't have make yourself small for anyone. And I'll beat anyone who says otherwise to a pulp."

In a single beat of his heart, he pulls Hotaru into a hug as tight as he can muster in his stiff party clothes. His eyes burn at the corners and he bites the inside of his cheek. He places his chin on top of Hotaru's head and thanks the spirits for bringing this girl into his life.

"You know, it might help you if you talk to one of your past lives. They might be able to give you some perspective. I'm sure they all struggled when they first learned they were the Avatar." She pulls him away and straightens the lapels of his shirt. "Maybe you can even talk to Kyoshi. She might have some wisdom to impart on you."

Quickly, he smears the heel of his palm across his eyes and rubs away any tears he might've been about to shed. His lungs ache as he forces them to let out a slow, even breath. "Of course. You're right. I should."

"Now, what do you say about getting to this party? It is being thrown in your honor."

"Absolutely." Jinahi loops his arm through hers. "Let's rock thing, beautiful girl."

* * *

_tbc._


	10. Book Three, Part IV: Earth

**Synopsis:** Aang recieves a vision of the future during the storm in which he freezes himself and is presented with a choice: Envoke the Avatar State and remain frozen for one hundred years or drown and reincarnate so the next Avatar can save what remains of his people post-genocide. The choice is not easy. It takes a full cycle to bring the world back to peace.

**Author's Note:** i've been gone for a bit. but i return with a very eventful chapter. you meet sora, a new character who is important. and you learn more about dorjee. i tried to elaborate more on jinhai's insecurities here. you also briefly meet the main conflict. so lots of stuff to chew on. i'm tired af right now so i won't regale you with a long AN. but, if you celebrate it, happy (early) halloween! stay spoopy.

* * *

**BOOK THREE: EARTH  
****PART IV  
**_AVATAR JINHAI_

_It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to be._

**i. **

The entire east wing of the Chen Estate has been dedicated to the gala and a week's worth of work hangs from its ceilings and walls. Lanterns of every color float high above the party and silk tapestries line the edges of the room. Their patterns detail the likenesses of Jinhai's past lives; on the furthest wall, Aang and an unfamiliar female Water Avatar look over the gathering with ferocity in their woven faces.

Toward the front of the hall, tables are grouped around a raised dais, overflowing with fruit and meat and the Earth Kingdom's most famous dishes. (It should be noted that when the term 'Earth Kingdom' is used here, it is used to define the northern portion of the nation that most of the nobleborn party-goers hail from; it does not in any way reflect the country as a whole or even Avatar Jinhai's cultural roots, much to his chagrin. It's a lame–and wildly inaccurate–attempt to show he's one of _them_, not an outsider like some of his features suggest, and that he's worthy of being given a chance.)

Over half of the guests they sent invitations to have arrived. He hovers in the entrance, hidden by shadows, and listens to the racing beat of his heart. Jinhai looks at their pale faces and straight black hair and swallows hard.

How did he get here?

Hotaru grabs his hand and squeezes it as if she can sense the turmoil growing inside him. "It's going to be alright. Just be your charming self."

"It's just hard to believe all of this is for me," he whispers to her out of the side of his mouth. "I don't feel like I deserve this."

"You deserve the best, Avatar or not. Take it in. Enjoy it," she says and kisses him on the cheek. He resists the blush that wants to sear through him from the tips of his hairs to his toes. "I'm going to try and find Dorjee. Maybe I can catch her without Ahn. She's really starting to worry me."

"Yeah, you do that," he murmurs, searching for the heir in the crowd. When he can't find that perfect head of dark hair or a flash of pointed white teeth, he sighs. "Something's not right about that guy. Let me know if you find her."

Hotaru nods and leaves his side. She easily blends in with the crowd and for the first time Jinhai takes in just how refined _her_ features are. She looks like she belongs here, like she's just another girl attending a party with her politician or merchant father.

Not for the first time, he wonders who her parents were and how she'd come to live with him at Mama Lu's Orphanage for Lost Children.

Jinhai shakes the thought away and dives headfirst into the meet-and-greet. He makes quick work of wooing the guests, adapts himself to the person they want from him. He needs their support and he needs to convince them that he's worth giving a chance. _But they don't want you, do they?_ With a simple, disarming smile and a quick introduction, most of the people he meets are eating out of the palm of his hand in minutes. It doesn't do much to assuage his worries but he continues his work anyway.

He claps an older man on the shoulder and offers him a drink. Jinhai smiles, an easy grin that shines like the sun in spring. A shock runs up his arm and the tension in Jinhai's shoulders eases.

"I don't believe we've met," Jinhai says and bows, quickly, with impeccable form. He's been practicing it religiously for the gala. "My name is Jinhai."

The man's sharp gaze cuts into him and Jinhai is surprised to see warm amber instead of a deep forest green. Cheekbones that mirror his own and a flat thin mouth–there's no mistaking his Fire Nation heritage. So what is he doing here where he's likely hated by the entire room?

"Ah, so you're the one the Chens have thrown all this fuss for. It's an honor to meet you. You'll have to excuse my manners, but I'll have to wait until the demonstration before I honor you with the title Avatar." His voice is deep, sharp, stern, and the man's uniform suggests a military background–which certainly stands at odds with his heritage since the Fire Nation's military was dismantled soon after the war ended.

Jinhai laughs to hide his puzzled frown. "That's perfectly fine. You're not alone. I'd be skeptical myself if I hadn't already entered the Avatar State. There's no denying it when you've got a hundred people's voices bouncing around in your head like that."

The man hums, his fingers twitching along the hilts of the blades at his side. "Well, in the case that you are who you say, I hope to see more of you in the future. I was very close with the previous Avatar and helped substitute her role after her passing. I'd love to continue my services."

Jinhai blinks. There's an itch in the back of his mind, even as he grows more and more relaxed around this complete stranger. "What's your name?"

"Admiral Ty Jiro," he says.

_Jiro? Jiro Jiro Jiro–_that _Jiro. _

The Fire Nation jail guard. The one that she–_or he or they because where did Kei's soul end and his begin?_–had been terrifyingly in love with. Jinhai's heart constricts in his chest. His mind bursts as words he can't control slowly form. He feels like he's being pulled in a thousand directions. _Where to go? Who to see? Who is he?_

"We knew we were going to die," the Avatar says. "It was never your fault. We're just sorry you never met us before we changed so much."

Jinhai clenches his jaw, squeezes his eyes shut as a strong wave of nausea passes over him. He feels like he's been twisted and wrung out, left high and dry after drowning in something _other_.

Jiro watches him. His expression is wary, disturbed even, but he never loses his composure.

"I apologize," Jinhai whispers, pressing a hand to his temple, which suddenly feels as if a pillar of earth has been driven through it. "I'm suddenly not feeling well. If you'll excuse me."

Jinhai leaves and seeks out the table of refreshments available before the main course. He needs a drink. He needs something to wash away the sudden taste of fear and pain that Kei's memories and words have brought.

Dorjee appears next to him as he throws back a tumbler of brandy that's likely older than he is. It travels down his widened throat and singes Kei away. As she recedes, so does the headache and the rolling stomach. Hate for his predecessor burns bright in his gut before fizzling out.

Dorjee's hand hovers on his shoulder. Always light and airy, never making any noise. Jinhai wonders if it's an airbender quality or just something she's learned to avoid Ahn's undoubtedly vengeful and unforgiving temperament.

"Papa would like you to make your way to the dais. It's time for your demonstration," she says. He barely hears her over the room's chatter.

"Give me a second," he says and pours himself one more drink. _For luck and my nerves_, he thinks. _And to chase the demons away._ Dorjee eyes the glass nervously and shuffles her feet to put a little more distance between them.

Jinhai redirects the lance of guilt he feels into the vault of tells and words Dorjee has given him. Alone, they mean nothing. Together, they tell him a story that makes him hate Ahn more and more. So much hate burns in his gut. He's beginning to think that _it_ is the source of his stomach ache, not Kei or Jiro or the brandy he's swallowed. He's going to do something to help her. He will. He's just not sure how.

He may have ignored his duties as Avatar for twenty years, but he can start now. He can make a difference _now_.

Jinhai sets the drink he'd poured himself down, untouched. Dorjee's shoulders relax and Jinhai smiles.

"Never mind," he says, looping his arm through hers. He makes sure to keep his own touch light. "Let's give these idiots a show."

**ii.**

Jiro watches the Avatar go. His palms are sweaty, but he doesn't dare wipe them on the front of his uniform slacks.

When he received the Chen's invitation, he'd almost wanted the boy to be a charlatan. If Jinhai was a fake, a poser like the others who'd risen in the years after Kei, he would have been able to continue his search and hold onto the purpose that had driven him for twenty years. He could hold onto the boy he'd been.

He wouldn't have to accept that the girl from the swamp, the bright comet of a girl who'd destroyed his life and vanished, was truly gone and she'd been replaced with someone entirely new.

"Father," a voice says next to him, "are you alright? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Jiro turns and is ripped back into the future from the past. He hates that he still misses _her_. He has a wife, who he loves beyond measure, and he has a daughter, who he wouldn't trade for even a lifetime with Kei. He has a life, here in the now, and if given a choice between what he has and something else with the girl he'd loved in his youth, he'd choose the now.

He still loves Kei, but it's not the same.

Jiro wraps his arm around his daughter's side and kisses her forehead. "I'm fine. I just didn't expect this boy to be the real thing." And he is. He can feel it in his gut, feel the way his blood boils when it's near that ancient soul.

She grabs his hand and squeezes. "Mom said you might have trouble with this. She told me to keep an eye on you."

The admiral chuckles. "Your mother knows me too well, Sora. And I'm _your_ father. I'm supposed to be looking out for you."

Sora makes a face that reminds him entirely of Jia. There's no doubting she's her mother's daughter. But he sees himself in her, too. They share the same nose and mouth, the proud set to their shoulders and even the small crook between their two bottom front teeth. No, there isn't anything he would trade for the life he's built.

"Is that him?" Sora asks, pointing to a boy making his way to the front of the room. He towers over the girl at his side, who looks nothing like the companion reports have said he's been travelling with. _That_ girl is likely somewhere else in the room.

Jiro nods. "It is."

"Should I speak to him?"

"I asked you to come with me to this party as my daughter, not a soldier," he says, and his mind calls him a liar. "You're more important to me than any mission or objective, Sora. You don't have to. Most girls your age are concerned with dresses and marriage. Not reconissian missions and world figures."

Sora rolls her eyes and crosses her arms. She looks like her mother. "Father, you forget that I _hate_ dresses." She emphasizes this by tugging on her Earth Kingdom hanfu and revealing the black fabric of trousers she has on underneath. "The Avatar needs help and if I've got the opportunity to do it, I will."

Jiro sighs and grabs his daughter's arm before she can march off. "Well, you'll have to wait for that, baby. It looks like the demonstration is about to begin."

And it is. The girl he'd traveled to the front of the room with is gone, leaving only the boy on the raised stage. Boulders have been brought inside for the boy's earthbending demonstration, but he doesn't see any water jugs for a waterbending display or controls for firebending.

Ju Long Chen stands next to the young Avatar. The nobleman, in comparison to the boy, is a short, stout man with a thick thatch of black hair on his head. His facial hair is styled in a fashion popular in this region of the world–trimmed cleanly around the mouth and allowed to grow long on the chin–and even from his position in the back of the crowd, he can see the distinct shine of his gold jewelry.

He's the perfect image of what every Earth Kingdom citizen should be. Dedicated. Loyal. Generous.

Jiro saw plenty of men like him during the warring period; they are vipers in the cradle.

"First and foremost, I would like to thank you all for attending this celebration tonight. I know that many of you were skeptical when you received the invitation, but you're here and you've given us a chance to prove to you that the Avatar is indeed alive," Ju Long says and nudges the boy forward with a firm, subtle push. "I found Avatar Jinhai on the streets of Gaoling. He had fled his home city after discovering his identity and revealing himself to criminals who sought to end his reign before it even began."

The boy looks incredibly uncomfortable and yet there's a trained confidence to the set of his shoulders. Sora notices this too and whispers her thoughts into his ear.

"Do we know who he was before coming to the Chen Estate?"

"Street fighting. Drug transportation. Helped in intimidation displays. He worked for a thug named Yao, head of the Black Sleeves."

Ju Long continues. "We gave him refuge and protected him from the gangs who pursued him and, in turn, Avatar Jinhai has honored us with the opportunity to be apart of making history. Jinhai has shown the makings of a fine young Avatar, and I sincerely hope you are able to see what I have over the course of tonight's meeting. Now, because I know you are all anxious to see proof that your Avatar has returned, I'll leave the stage to Jinhai as he demonstrates the ability bend earth and air."

Ju Long's robes trail after him as he waddles off stage, leaving the Avatar to stand alone. Servants on the side of the room dim and light candles until the stage is cast in highlights and shadows. Jinhai rocks back on his heels, pulls his mouth into a taut smile. The room takes in a single breath and holds it.

Rocks placed around the dais raise, controlled by a smooth raise of the boy's arms. Jinhai closes his fist and the rocks crumble, fold into themselves and break apart, until a hundred pieces of earth hang suspended in the air. When the boy begins to truly bend, Jiro is surprised by how strange it looks. Unlike most earthbenders he's encountered–both trained benders like King Bumi of Omashu and members of the Dai Li or the self-taught commoners–Jinhai doesn't stay rooted in one spot. His bending is a series of quick kicks and punches. He lands only long enough to reconnect with the earth before rotating his hips again and sending another boulder careening across the room. Good for close quarters, Jiro notes, but he's never met a master who'd formally teach their students this style.

The crowd is awed as earth weaves between and above them, circling in complicated patterns, none of it practical and all of it for show. Every once in a while, the earth reforms itself into an animal and Jiro withholds a chuckle as an armadillo bear, the house's sigil, leaps over his head and pretends to find interest in one woman's feathery hat.

Jinhai's left foot slides into place next to his right and with a deep breath, he bows as he finishes his first display. The party erupts in a short burst of applause. Despite his unconventional style, there's no doubt he's a talented earthbender. Jiro might even classify him as a master.

_But that doesn't make you the Avatar._

The boy's eyes dart from face to face, searching. Doubt begins to claw through the room.

_What is he waiting for?_

_He's lying._

_Is he going to bend or not?_

Whatever–or whomever–he's searching for, he finds because the tension leaks from his body. His shoulders lower and his eyes close and he releases a breath.

Jiro waits. He listens. A shiver shakes his spine.

The windows and doors are closed, locked and sealed shut, and yet a breeze has found its way into the ballroom. The banners on the walls shake and tremble and Jiro is sure that if he closes his eyes he'd feel like he were standing on a mountain's peak. Wind roars in his ears.

He looks nothing like Mela, Kei's airbending master whose bending was smooth and soft and each move bleed into the next like a song. Her air currents were wild and untamed, impossible to fight. Jinhai looks like he's trying to keep a shirshu on a leash, an impossible task to perform. But it's undeniable. He's airbending, even if it is poorly.

A final gale plunges the room into darkness and the servants scramble to relight the candles.

The room is so quiet that Jiro can hear a match striking near the stage.

Ju Long clears his throat. Between the candles blowing out and being relit, he's taken up a spot at the Avatar's side again. His arm is slung around the boy's shoulder and the merchant looks like he's just been told his largest competitor's fleet of ships have sunk to the bottom of the South Sea.

"Ladies and gentlemen."

A beat of silence.

_Twenty years of absence. Twenty years of searching. Twenty years of imbalance. _

"The Avatar has returned."

Sora applauds with the rest of the room and elbows her father in the side. "Is he what you expected?"

Jiro looks at the boy. Really, truly looks at him. His Fire Nation eyes. His Si Wong skin. His cocky smile and silver scars that shine on his knuckles and jaw. He tries to imagine what Kei would have looked like up there, with a straight spine and a proud mouth, and realizes he can't. She was no diplomat. She was a conqueror who seized her peace with force and she did the same with her position. The boy's need to appease the people, to prove his worth, was nowhere near the same–but exactly what the world needed anything, he thinks.

"No," he says. "But he'll do a fine job anyway."

**iii. **

Ju Long's voice echoes in Jinhai's ears. There's no escaping anything now. The world knows who he is.

Adrenaline buzzes through each of his nerves. Jinhai can feel their attention–adoration merging and molting with disbelief and a dash of anger. He's dizzy, overwhelmed. He can't breathe. He can't see.

A firm grip guides him off stage as he struggles to ground himself. He focuses on his pulse and makes a conscious effort to slow it. It feels like lightning is zinging between every cell in his body, bouncing and pinging and destroying everything in its path.

Jinhai squeezes his eyes shut and opens them again. Dorjee stands next to him, her hand still latched onto the inside of his elbow. Somehow, she's hidden him away from the party before the guests can swarm him again. They're outside where it's open and cool and the murmur of the party falls away.

"They can be a little overwhelming," she says. "Ju Long has had me perform at their get-togethers before. Airbenders aren't as exciting as the Avatar, but still… I understand. You did great by the way. I've never seen anyone airbend like that before."

Shaking his head, he focuses on the breeze that nips at his cheeks. The moon isn't quite full–it's beginning to wane again–but it reminds Jinhai of the spirits in the forest and the white glow of the Avatar State. It also reminds him that he's a waterbender, too, and as such the moon should give him strength. He should feel it in his veins, pushing and pulling his chi like the ocean. But all he feels is the air and earth around him and the energy of the flickering lanterns lighting the gardens. It provides no strength. Only disappointment.

"I'm an awful airbender, Dorjee, but thank you. You're too kind." Jinhai leans against the wooden railing of the balcony. He's not sure if Hotaru had the chance to get her alone before the demonstration, but now is as good a time as any other. "You know, Hotaru and I will eventually have to leave here and find bending teachers. You could come with us, if you wanted. We'll have to find a firebending master first but we've talked about it and we want to be at the air temple by the end of the year."

Dorjee stiffens like she's waiting for Jinhai to suddenly laugh and reclaim his words. Like she's waiting to be the victim of another cruel joke. He knows the feeling all too well. Mama Lu's hadn't left much room for hope and he'd never thought he'd be able to escape the old hag's abuse. It wasn't until he was forced to leave that he'd realized just how little control she truly had over him.

"I mean it," Jinhai says. "Hotaru and I… we've both been in some pretty tough spots. We know what it's like. Ahn shouldn't be allowed to treat you the way he does."

The girl begins to shake her head violently. Jinhai ducks his head, tries to meet her eyes and communicate what he can't seem to put into words, but she's found a keen interest in the gardens spreading across the grounds in front of them. "No, no, it's nothing like that. The Chens care for me. They've given me a home. It's not Ahn's fault. He just has a temper sometimes and he's warned me not to make him mad. I'm just careless. It's not his fault at all."

Jinhai opens his mouth and closes it before speaking. His heart feels very heavy and sad suddenly as he realizes she truly believes–_it's her fault._ Anger quickly follows the sadness.

_Bastard,_ he thinks and his eyes drift to her covered arms. He wonders how fresh the bruises are today. He hates that he can't figure out how to help her, that his own selfish needs and wants stop him from anahillating the Chens in turn.

"Still," he says slowly, as if the words will come to him faster this way. He's a smooth-talker, sure, but never when it counts. That's Hotaru's specialty. "You deserve a teacher. I'm sure they'd understand."

"Think about it," he tries again, when he knows his white lie fell flat. "We won't be leaving for a while. We still need to find a firebender to teach me before we leave the estate for good."

"I don't think that'll be necessary."

Jinhai's spine stiffens and his mouth goes sour. As his sides, his hands ball into fists. Dorjee tightens like a string pulled to its snapping point.

"Ahn," he drawls and tries to cover to the scowl threatening to twist his face. "Glad you could find us. What did you think of my performance? Was it to your liking?"

A slew of filthy, dirty words cross Jinhai's mind and he refrains from verbalizing them.

Ahn doesn't answer. His gaze drills into Dorjee whose hands have begun to tremble. A sudden gust of wind blows Jinhai's cowlick into his eyes. His teeth grind together.

"Dorjee, _darling_." Wholly, purely, entirely a predator. His brown eyes glint, but Jinhai doesn't think it's a reflection from the lantern light illuminating the garden. "Why don't you come to greet guests with me? My friends are looking forward to seeing another of your tricks. You know how they love them, little bird."

"Yes, Ahn. Right away," she murmurs. Her eyes won't leave the ground. She shuffles to her fiance's side and when her eyes finally raise, he sees fear, unadulterated.

Jinhai has never killed a man before. Not in the ring. Not in Yao's service. He wasn't a coldblooded killer, and murder was one of his hard limits. But there's something in Ahn's arrogance, the way his posture and smile ooze satisfaction in the color blue and green like a bruise bleeding under the skin, that tells Jinhai to finish him _now_. Stop him _now_. It shocks him how quickly and effortlessly the violence comes to him. It's so familiar and foriegn that Jinhai doesn't know how to react.

Then Kei's presence slinks into his head and he realizes it's not his first instinct at all. He sees Azulon, sees the way his body twitches and pulls under the Avatar's control, hears his voice like metal grating on metal. _What–what are you doing to me?_

_These men do not deserve to live, _she hisses. _Only justice will bring peace._

He doesn't realize he's sought out the earth until he feels the tremors of it running up his spine. He's prepared to do it, prepared to end one unjust man before he can take one step further.

But then another voice, this one apart of his heart and not his soul, rings bright like a bell. It's Hotaru, holding his hand, pulling him back from the edge.

_You are not her. She is not you. You're the Avatar, but you are also just Jinhai. _

He uncurls his fist.

_There is a better way to end this. _

When Ahn turns heel and leaves with Dorjee draped over his arm, Jinhai lets loose a controlled breath. He takes a moment to collect himself and soothe the storm.

Ahn will never know how close to death he came. He will never know how close Jinhai came to letting Kei destroy him.

**iv.**

Inside the party, Jiro's daughter, Sora, has sought out the Avatar's travelling companion. Sora, being only sixteen suns old herself, is surprised at just how small the other girl is. She's the same age as the Avatar–an even twenty–but she looks so much younger.

Sora introduces herself with a greeting traditional to the area she knows the girl and the Avatar are from, linking their arms and brushing their cheeks.

The girl, Hotaru, smiles, looking a little surprised. "I'm surprised you know about that. It's kind of limited to the area I grew up in," she says. "Have you ever been to Xianghao?"

Sora shakes her head and begins to assess the girl and store information away. At this point, it's as natural as breathing. Six years of training at the Northern Water Tribe's Naval Academy has beaten observance and preparation into her. The difficult nature of the school and the prejudice and racism she'd faced even as a nonbender from the Fire Nation had required her to be aware constantly. Hotaru is short and slight and there's a hollowness to her cheeks that falls in line with what Sora knows about the girl being ill. And even though the dress she wears is loose fitting, she can tell the girl lacks the muscles most earthbenders sport.

"I have not," she admits and her cheeks turn pink. "But I did do a little research before coming here. I wanted to make a decent first impression."

Hotaru laughs. Sora notes that the girl is open and kind, perhaps more trusting than she should be, given the situation. _Her body is leaned toward me and her arms are uncrossed. Good. _"Well, color me impressed, you're the first to greet me like that. It's nice to be reminded of home."

"It was my pleasure, miss. I've grown up hearing all about the Avatar and their companions. They're the stuff of legend." Sora pauses and chooses candor over flattery. Hotaru seems level-headed and open-minded, trusting and intelligent. "I've kind of been training my entire life for this. My father was involved with the previous Avatar."

Blood roars in her ears as she waits for a response. Her admission is small but it's an offer. _I want to join you_. She's been training her entire life–but she's never been put in the field before and _spirits be damned _she's nervous.

"Ty Sora," the other girl murmurs thoughtfully. "What's your father's name?"

"Jiro."

Recognition sparks in Hotaru's eyes and she bites the inside of her cheek. There's a moment where Sora can feel Hotaru's conflict–does she trust a stranger's word? Does she trust a child who knows more than she should? Does she ask the question that's bearing down on her mind? _Are you here because you were a friend to Kei or because you're angry for how she left the world?_

Hotaru opens her mouth. Then closes it. She circles her pointer finger around her thumb. "If Jinhai hasn't met him yet, I'm sure he'd love to. He's still trying to learn as much as he can about his past lives."

Sora tries not to feel disappointed but can't help the way it sours her mouth as the moment passes. Her honor depends on this. She needs to help the Avatar. She needs to redeem her nation.

After that, they make small talk. Sora continues picking up on ticks and quirks and compartmentalizes them. She eases a few answers out of the girl, discovers that the Avatar is searching for teachers and that the Chens are–unsurprisingly–wolfbats in koala sheep's clothing. When they part ways, Sora is more convinced than ever that the Avatar needs protection.

This much Sora learns: Hotaru doesn't trust the Chens and she doesn't trust the crowd. The Avatar needs a team, and there is something, though she's not sure what, sinister about the gala. There are too many whispers, too many harsh tongues.

Sora parts ways with the Avatar's travelling companion and searches for the Avatar himself, who has made himself scarce since the demonstration. Her gut coils and her instincts scream, _Find him find himfindhim_.

As the night goes on, the feeling that something is wrong builds and grows until the short hairs on the back of her neck bristle and she can't unfurl her hands from their defensive form.

She's on the balcony, trying to collect her fraying nerves, when wind and earth explode from the garden. Her hand covers her eyes in an attempt to keep the rising dust out of her eyes and she's glad she's wearing trousers under her dress because the strength of the wind snags it and rips a large portion of it free.

Her mind races and her feeling of unease crests. Power, old and ancient and lost, crawls over her skin.

Party guests begin to filter outside, their curiosity driving them to search out the disaster striking.

A voice cracks through the night sky like lightning splitting a tree, deepened and heightened by ten thousand years of life.

"_I won't let you keep hurting her."_

**v. **

After Dorjee leaves, Jinhai can't bring himself to face the party again.

He's exhausted. His inner turmoil was getting the better of him lately and he wasn't sure how to resolve it. He only knew he had to, or it'd eat him alive.

He felt so inadequate in so many parts of his life. Time and time again, he felt like the universe had made a mistake in making _him_ the Avatar. And he felt broken when it came to his feelings for Hotaru. Something was _wrong_ with him, deep down in his soul, and he hated himself for it. Mama Lu and so many others had only confirmed his fears; and even though they'd all been wrong about so much else, he couldn't help but feel that this was the one thing they were right in. It wasn't natural to feel the way he did about men and women. He couldn't make up his mind about who to love. And he was too casual with his sexual relationships. He couldn't make up his mind about who to be as the Avatar. He couldn't say the right thing to help Dorjee. He couldn't keep Hotaru healthy. He was so defective that even his parents, two people who were supposed to love him unconditionally, had given him away before he was even old enough to stop breastfeeding. And what was to be expected when, more than likely, he'd been a product of rape.

He didn't deserve this party. He didn't deserve anything.

In a world full of massive fuck-ups, Jinhai was sure he was it's biggest mistake.

Jinhai slinks his way into the gardens, simply hopping the railing of the balcony and landing solidly on his two feet. Shucking off the outer layer of his uncomfortable party-wear, he's left in his underclothes. It's chilly and he's cold without his changshan but right now the feeling of anything on his skin is too overwhelming for his mind.

It's easier to relax out here where his connection to the earth isn't silenced by wooden floors or a hundred heartbeats. It's easier to hear his own thoughts, stop each one and process them before they spiral out of control.

It's quiet. Nocturnal animals provide him enough noise to finally slow his hummingbird heart.

He breathes a slow breath, places his fists together in a pose that feels so natural even though he's never done it before.

His mind clears like fog vanishing in morning sun. Muscles untense and he feels himself drifting, far, far, _far… _

Ice slams down his spine and he gasps. One word echoes in his mind. Is it a word? A name?

_Kurozuka._

Jinhai closes his eyes again and tries to reach the same place of zen that he was sure nearly connected him to his past lives. But it's gone. A wall has been slammed down. He can feel it as his spirit feathers around the edges of it, bouncing off as it meets resistance.

"What the fuck?" he mumbles and puts his hand on his chin. While his initial anxiety has lessened somewhat–he's still jittery and racing, but it doesn't feel like he's about to swallow his lungs–disappointment makes his body heavy.

He closes his eyes, this time to simply enjoy the night. At the very least, he can relax out here. Find the moment of peace and quiet that's evaded him since arriving at the Estate.

Until he hears them. His heart begins to race again. Not out of fear. Not out of anything other than a terrifying, white hot anger.

"You fucking whore. You just can't keep your legs shut. And thinking you can leave me? Leave us? After everything I've done for you? You told him what father's plan was, didn't you? You betrayed us."

He knows the voice before he sees its owner's face. Ahn's voice is bellowing, heavy-hitting, as loud and unforgiving as the _smack! _that echoes through the gardens as his hand meets his target.

Jinhai bends a gap in the hedges and steps through it with a single destination in mind. The tightness in his body is back. A migraine presses against the back of his eyes.

"No, I didn't! I swear I didn't. I'm sorry! Ahn, please, _I'm so sorry, I didn't mean it–_"

"You're a fucking liar! Spirits, you're worthless aren't you? Pathetic. After everything I've done for you, after everything to show you how much I love you, you still going looking for more. It's because he's the Avatar? Of course it is. You'll fuck anything, you gold digging slut."

His voice is a snarl. The crack of a whip in the dead of night.

Jinhai couldn't stop himself even if he wanted to.

One moment he's on the edge of a hidden courtyard, watching as Ahn's hand rears back for another heavy hit. He sees the fear in Dorjee's face, the blood on the corner of her mouth and the bruises on her body as Ahn rips her dress off.

And then he's across it, Ahn sprawled on the ground as Jinhai holds his hand in a death grip. Dorjee is several feet away, sobbing as she cradles her arm to chest. Ahn's fear tastes thick on his tongue and Jinhai doesn't resist the snarl that crosses his face this time.

"_I won't let you keep hurting her," _he says and his voice is not his own.

**vi.**

Sora wastes no time and rips the rest of her dress off, leaving her in her trousers and a white undershirt. She knows some of the guests are eyeing her–_of course she's a heathen, she's Fire Nation_–but she doesn't care.

It's not the first time nor will it be the last they'll hate her for her origins.

And she's got an Avatar to help.

She vaults herself into the gardens, following the winds. They're growing stronger, more violent and dangerous, and Sora knows something awful has happened. He's an inexperienced Avatar with one element under his belt. Of course he can't control the Avatar State. Only danger to his own life or an emotional trigger could summon it. _So which is it?_

At one point in her trek, Sora is forced to whip a dagger from her waistband and plunge it into the ground to anchor herself as a tree is uprooted and soars over her head.

The ground ripples under her body.

She doubles her efforts.

Finally, she makes it what looks like it was once a courtyard with a fountain in the center. Except now, the fountain is shattered and water makes the dirt under her feet sludge. (And yet, interestingly enough,water remains out of Jinhai's arsenal.) She sinks, ankle deep in mud, and can't stop her mouth from dropping open.

Her father once told her what he saw when Kei fought her epic battle against Azulon. She'd launched buildings like they were pebbles, brought the ocean around the capital island to heel, created a storm like the world had never seen before.

"Her eyes were white and I'd never seen something so terrifying and beautiful at the same time," he said.

She'd never understood. Not until now.

There are two figures, one cemented solidly on the ground while the other hovers ten feet in the air, supported by a whirlwind of air. Earth in all shapes and sizes hurls back and forth. She can hardly her own thoughts over the storm.

Most of the grounder's efforts are defensive and nowhere near adequate to survive the onslaught. Blood slips from his nose, the corner of his mouth. His form is sloppy, broken; he's nursing a broken rib, a strained ankle.

_He's going to kill him,_ she realizes as Jinhai lifts a slab of the ground above his head and the winds intensify.

She panics. Protecting the Avatar surely means protecting him from himself, right? If he kills the Chen heir, the Earth Kingdom will chew him up and spit him right back out. She knows they're already apprehensive about an Avatar with mixed blood.

She'd chi block him if she could but there's no way in the world she'd be able to vault herself up that high. Even she has her limits. So she resorts to another method.

Luckily, Ahn isn't out for the count yet. Sora nearly falls over when the boulder Jinhai had reburies itself back into the ground.

Sora runs to Ahn–the intel she's gathered doesn't make him her favorite person in the world; snobbish, arrogant, and racist enough that she'll be surprised if he accepts her help–and pulls him out of the way as shards of sharpened earth rain down. It's reminiscent of a mid-level waterbending technique taught at the Naval Academy, furthering her confusion as to why he's not just bending water instead of making earth look like it.

"You need to get out of here," she hisses. "He's not in control and he's going to kill you."

Ahn is frothing at the mouth with fury. "How dare he? How _fucking dare he_ attack me?"

"Get out of here. Now."

She'd expected more fight from a man who claimed his honor was so bruised. (At home, men would rather die than run from a fight. They demanded respect. They took it.) But Ahn–she supposes now it should have been obvious–turns heel and run, leaving her alone with the Avatar… and a girl, whose found a hiding place behind a piece of rubble.

With Ahn gone, the girl rises from her hiding spot and approaches Sora.

"Put the blade away. He's not going to hurt us," she says quietly. Her face is soft, a picture of reverence that Sora doesn't understand.

The girl's face is black and blue, cuts dashed all over her body. She assumes they're a result of being caught in the crossfire of Jinhai's Avatar State. Sora looks to the spot in the hedges where Ahn disappeared. Was this a lover's quarrel? Had the Avatar caught his partner in relations with another man?

Sora frowns. She's never read about this girl. So far, reports said he'd only travelled with Hotaru and she'd already met her.

The other girl must see the questioning on her face and lets out a soft sigh, then winces. "He didn't do this. The man you saved–I'm Dorjee, his fiancée. Jinhai's had his suspicions while staying here but… he finally caught Ahn in the act."

Against her will, Sora's mouth falls open in to an 'O'. She takes a look at the bruises one more time, sees how they overlap in age. "He beat you?"

Dorjee pauses, nods her head once, like she hasn't acknowledged this before, not even to herself. "Jinhai caught him doing it again."

Sora looks over her shoulder. The winds have calmed and, slowly, the Avatar is returning to the ground. His eyes are fading, slipping back in a human shade. No longer the fearsome Avatar, Jinhai just looks like exhausted.

When his feet hit the ground, his knees buckle and Sora rushes forward to catch him under the arms.

"What…" he mumbles, blinking blearily. "What's going on? Where am I?"

Dorjee crouches in front of him and touches his face. Jinhai's eyes snap to hers and then he looks at Sora. Her breath catches in her chest. _She's really holding the Avatar. _

Jinhai pushes her away and falls on his ass. His head falls into his hands and after a moment, he looks back up.

"I attacked him."

Dorjee nods.

"He's going to turn them against me, isn't he?"

She nod again.

"I need to leave. I need to get to Hotaru and leave."

Sora swivels as gravel crunches. A body barrels into Jinhai, wraps him in a tight hug. _Speak of the devil and they'll arrive. _"What happened?" Hotaru asks, frantic as she searches for injury.

Shaking his head, Jinhai turns his head into Hotaru's shoulder and returns her embrace just as fiercely. Sora squirms as the feeling that she's invading a private moment passes over her. She looks at Dorjee and quirks one side of her mouth. That girl has been through hell and back, that's for sure.

Hotaru and Jinhai share a few whispered words that bring a severe expression to the other girl's face.

"The Chen's security is top-notch. There's no way we're going to make it out in one piece if they're gunning for blood."

Sora clears her throat. Hotaru looks at her and her eyes narrow. She's recalling their earlier conversation.

"If I may, I might be able to help you escape the Estate," she says. "I've trained for situations like this. Even studied blueprints for properties like this."

"Who are you?" Jinhai asks. _Shoulders tense, chin tilted down, hands clenched. Aggressive and ready to attack._

"That's not important. Right now, we need to get you away from the angry mob that's about to reign down upon you for attacking the aristocracy's golden boy."

"I know the grounds just as well as the guards," Dorjee offers, clutching her arm and pushing a piece of hair behind her ear. "I can fact-check whatever she offers and steer her in the right direction."

Mouth grim, Jinhai nods. He stands with Hotaru's help and rolls out the tension and fear in his body, slips back into the street savvy boy she's studied.

"Then let's get moving."

**vii.**

Most of Sora's plan involves evasion but there are two occasions that make Jinhai happy she's aiding instead of hunting them because she is a small, _terrifying_ thing.

"It's called chi blocking," says Sora after she jabs two sharp knuckles into the shoulders and spines of a small group of shoulders. She's tied their headbands around their mouth, left them incapacitated with her hands alone. Their hands aren't bound but they couldn't remove the cloth even if they tried. Sora doesn't seem to be as amazed with the ability as Jinhai is, but he supposes the same could be said for himself. So far, the ability to bend four elements hasn't been that glamorous.

"Where did you learn it?" Hotaru asks. Her hand is laced through Dorjee's.

A smile, nostalgic, crosses the younger girl's face before slipping away. "My father taught me."

With Sora's chi blocking and Dorjee's knowledge of the Estate, the make it outside the outer walls in one piece. Sora doesn't continue on with them.

"I'm needed here," she says. "I need to see what damage has been done and if anyone is going to follow you. But don't worry, you'll see me again."

It's an unspoken agreement between Jinhai and Hotaru that Sora is just as much a part of their team as Dorjee is.

Their flight through the darkness of the sprawling country outside Gaoling terrifies Jinhai. He's waiting for monsters to emerge from the night, attack his found family and force him into an uncontrollable fury.

But nothing ever comes. And, strangely, his mind is quiet. No memories from Kei, following his burst in the Avatar State earlier. No feelings or urges or migraines straining at his eyes.

He feels normal–like he did before the spirits attacked when he was a man and nothing more.

They make it to the docks on the western side of Gaoling just as the sun begins to rise. Rumors are already spreading, consuming the city like a wildfire.

_The Avatar is insane. He's a criminal who can't be trusted._

_He tried to murder the Chen heir in cold blood. And he kidnapped his fiancé, too!_

_We were better off without him. The world doesn't need him anymore._

When they are debating where they should sail to, Dorjee speaks for the first time since they left the Estate. "Makappu," she says and too shocked to argue, they settle on a village neither Hotaru or Jinhai have ever heard of.

Hotaru buys their passage north with money Sora had shoved into her hands. Jinhai hides, sits in shadows next to Dorjee. She's shaking, cold and terrified, but her mouth is pressed firm.

There's a change, he thinks. Or maybe he's just hoping she feels one.

She's not the hopeless, helpless girl she's been told she is.

She's a survivor. He sees it her scars the same way he sees it in his own.

When they load the boat, they sit behind cargo boxes on the main deck. It's only a fishing vessel headed to the most northwestern part of the kingdom and luckily the captain has no idea who he's just agreed to transport.

They lean against the boxes. Hotaru sits in the middle, squished between the two others. Their shoulders touch and as the boat takes off, they relax into the knowledge that they're safe. They've survived the Chens.

"So what's in Makappu?" Jinhai asks, his voice thick with fatigue. One of his legs is stretched out flat in front of him while the other is crooked. His arm falls over his knee while his head falls against the box.

"Papa–Ju Long–knows a firebender there. Makappu is an importing city for things he brings into the Earth Kingdom. He pays him to make sure that the criminals don't take it. He could teach you, or at least point you in the right direction."

Hotaru claps her hands together. "That's great! Honestly didn't know where we were going to go but you solved that _and_ you got us a firebender."

Jinhai smiles tiredly. "Dorjee, I'm happy to announce that you're now a member of Team Avatar."

Dorjee returns his smile. Her right eye is swollen shut, turning an angry red, but Jinhai is happy to know that it'll be the last time she ever has to recover from a wound like that.

There's a period of time where they do not talk. They listen to the ocean and focus on the heat their bodies share.

"You know, Sora said to me at the party that the Avatar's friendships are the stuff of legends and I have to agree."

"We _are_ pretty badass," Jinhai mumbles in return.

Jinhai thinks about his time at the Chen Estate. It hadn't been all bad, but it definitely wasn't an experience he wanted to revisit. Ahn was a bastard and his father was just as terrible for allowing his son to do what he had. Dorjee had spent her entire life with the Chens. She'd spent eighteen years being groomed and trained and flaunted like a show animal, been twisted into a bird with clipped wings.

But she was an airbender. And those were few and far between. Those who remained all congregated at one of the air temples, their population barely enough to fill one holy ground.

So how did she end up in Gaoling, of all places in the world an airbender could be?

"When did you arrive at the Chens, Dorjee?" he asks. _How?_

The airbender girl bites her lip. Then she tells them a story.

**viii.**

When Dorjee was a little girl, before Ju Long and Ahn's cruelty surpassed any and all possible points of redemption, she was allowed to choose one place in the city to visit. Her personal tutor would take her–she didn't attend an academy with other children; Ju Long said it was too dangerous for her to leave the estate as the only airbender in the entire province–and this was her time away from the estate.

"A proper lady does need a rounded education of her city," Ju Long conceded. "And Ahn would enjoy my full attention during our business lessons."

There was relief. And maybe excitement. Ahn was a spoiled child with a draconian temperament that only worsened with age. Dorjee wanted nothing more than to get away from his escalating abuse–and who better to save her than the Great Liberator herself?

She always chose the Avatar Kei Memorial. She knew the plaques by heart, knew every stitch and tear in her battle armor. She'd pray to Kei, ask for her to find her and deliver her the way she'd delivered the rest of her people in the war. She'd pray to be taken away somewhere far away to her real parents where she could eat sweet rolls all day long. Somewhere far away from Ahn's fury and Ju Long's blind eye.

When she was older, she prayed for more than just deliverance. She counted the bruises like a rosary and prayed for Kei to end Ahn the way she ended Azulon. _Cruel men deserve cruel deaths. _

When her prayers were left unanswered, Dorjee eventually stopped praying. The Avatar was dead. She wasn't going to help her. No one was going to help her. Still, she went to the museum, if only because she thought it was a beautiful place. She liked to look at the art and artifacts and cursing the bronze statue out front gave her a little bit of peace.

No one was going to save her. No one dared question how one of the richest families–second only to the Beifongs–adopted a little airbender girl, how she ended up _so fucking far _from her people. No one dared question the golden son's adoration. No one questioned him when he said she was clumsy. No one asked her why she was so quiet.

No one asked.

No one cared.

_I am alone._

She liked to imagine that she had two lovely parents with arrows as blue as the sky. They loved her. They wanted her. They searched for her when someone took her away and sold her to Ju Long Chen. (Her earliest memory is of being bound and gagged in a cage. Her second is of being handed over to Ju Long Chen like a piece of cattle. She was three.) Maybe they still looked for her. Maybe she had a different name. Maybe they named her after Avatar Yangchen.

If she hadn't been stolen and if she wasn't promised to Ahn, then she would've had a sky bison. And she'd know how to airbend. Not the stupid, useless tricks that Ju Long beat into her. But _real_ airbending. The kind of airbending that made storms and moved mountains and blew and blew until–until it blew the whole world away.

She'd be a real airbender. And if Ahn ever tried to touch her, she'd blow him away, too.

She played a game. She recited what her life would have been like, said it all right before she went to sleep. Then she dreamed of it.

It made life a little easier when Ahn visited her in the morning and took what he wanted.

_No one cares. No one asks._

_I am alone._

Jinhai and Hotaru ask her what she remembers about life before the Chen Estate and the truth is–she remembers nothing. Her mind is so full of _come here, little bird_ and _you stupid bitch_ and _you didn't earn your supper today, little bird _and her teeth rattling around in her head and _stop, stop, stop, please stop_ that if she ever had any other memories, they're long gone.

For her entire life, her world has always ended and began with Ahn and Ju Long Chen.

But now, as they leave the Chen Estate to be swallowed up by the ocean, she realizes the rest of the world is there, untainted by Ahn's fury. And she's free to see it.

She's not the girls in the memories she used to recite to herself. Not at all. But maybe she'll find someone close to her. Someone strong and fearless and brave.

"Thank you for taking me with you," she says softly, staring into her hands. Her head still throbs and burns where Ahn's rings dug into her scalp. "Thank you for stopping him."

Jinhai smiles at her. His eyes–such unusual eyes, just like hers–waver and his throat bobs as he swallows. He looks so different from the raging, terrifying storm of an Avatar she saw earlier that night. He looks kind. He looks safe.

His hand reaches out and she flinches. She waits for the sting, wherever it may land on her body, instinctively. Instead, there's a light touch on her hand. Then the feeling of… someone holding it. Carefully.

"You're apart of our family now, Dorjee," Jinhai says. "We'll protect you till the very end."

_Someone cared. Someone asked._

_I am not alone._

**ix. **

A boat arrives at the docks of Makappu. Three figures tumble off the deck, two girls and one boy, seasick and worse for wear. But they are here. And they have a goal in mind. They don't stop at the tavern or the local inn. They head straight for the mountain.

The villagers watch the strangers as they make a direct, short path to the base of Mount Makappu where only one man lives.

A small hut rises in the distance.

They do not slow their march.

_What could they possibly want with him? _the village wonders. _What do they want with the warrior?_

The smaller of the two girls approaches the door of the hut. She raises her hand. Knocks. _Demands_.

A man opens the door. Amber eyes peer out from behind chipping black paint. His mouth twists.

"Can I help you?" he asks, sneering down at the three.

"Are you Ahote?" the second girl, the one with purple eyes, asks.

"What's it to you?"

The boy steps forward. "My name is Jinhai. I'm the Avatar. I need you to teach me to firebend."

* * *

_tbc._


	11. Book Three, Part V: Earth

**Synopsis:** Aang recieves a vision of the future during the storm in which he freezes himself and is presented with a choice: Envoke the Avatar State and remain frozen for one hundred years or drown and reincarnate so the next Avatar can save what remains of his people post-genocide. The choice is not easy. It takes a full cycle to bring the world back to peace.

**Author's Note:** to those who celebrate, happy thanksgiving! i've begun putting a lot of thought into where this fic will go next since, plot-wise, jinhai's story is hitting the halfway mark. i still have a lot to do before wrapping book three but i figure i should start solidifying the next avatar's arc and write an approximate storyline for book four. simply because i cannot wait, i wanted to give you guys a little blurb about her. (so maybe y'all can be as excited about it as I am bc it's really where i've been wanting to go with this fic the entire time.)

here's the blurb i have written for her on her playlist description on apple music (which, btw, each avatar i've written about minus aang has one so if you type in avatar [name] the playlist should come up):

_avatar aiko _— _being a princess is hard enough. being the avatar is even harder. and being told you have to stop your uncle before he accomplishes world domination via a legendary comet while your two crazy cousins attempt to kill you? even harder still. lucky for her, she's got the girl who toppled the patriarchy, a simple boomerang guy, and the greatest earthbender in the world on her side._

* * *

**BOOK THREE: EARTH  
****PART V  
**_AVATAR JINHAI_

_We all have the same roots and we are all branches of the same tree._

**i. **

The door slams shut in Jinhai's face. He blinks, turns his head and raises an eyebrow at his two companions. _Did he really just do that?_

While Dorjee looks shocked and only shrugs her shoulders, Hotaru looks as if she's about to come undone at the seams. Her forehead is furrowed while her mouth is twisted in the ugliest scowl Jinhai has ever seen.

"Oh, well. Guess this one isn't going to pan out. Should we go back into town and grab some tea?" he asks.

Hotaru stomps forward. Grabbing Jinhai by the shoulder, she pulls him out of the way and hisses, "_Move!"_

She raises her fist. Drums her knuckles on the door for a second time. When the firebender doesn't open back up, Hotaru begins smacking her palms on the door, rapid fire.

Jinhai almost hopes the stranger is smart enough to stay inside. He's known Hotaru long enough to know that he does _not_ want to be on the other end of her anger. Not when she's this tired, frustrated, determined. But, then again, he's not on the other end of it and he can enjoy the show without suffering himself.

He wipes his smirk off his face with the back of his hand.

The door flies open, the hinges creaking.

"The Avatar," the man snarls, leaning into Hotaru's face as he looms over her, "is dead. Gone. Hasn't been around in decades. You can take your con elsewhere _now_ or I'll burn your pretty fucking hair off."

Ahote emphasizes his threat by raising a hand engulfed in orange fire. Hotaru's eyes flicker to it but she doesn't wince even when the fire draws close to her face. Ahote makes a noise of satisfaction when he assumes he's successfully intimidated Hotaru and takes a step back inside his hut to close the door again.

Before he can get the door shut, Hotaru shoves her foot inside the door and pushes it open with enough strength to send Ahote stumbling into his own living room. For such a small girl, she's always been surprisingly strong. She follows the man into the hut, and the mountain side rumbles.

(Now that they've left the Chens and Kiran, the waterbender healer, Jinhai is going to have to teach her how to earthbend to control her fits. He can feel one coming as the world shakes underfoot.)

"Listen here, buddy," Hotaru says in a deceptively calm voice. Jinhai can't see her, but he can picture her face perfectly in his mind's eye. "My friends and I just spent a week on a boat to get here to talk to _you_, which wasn't easy, by the way. Despite what I may look like, I'm an earthbender and _I hate the ocean_. We just escaped from the craziest assholes the Earth Kingdom has to offer. Jinhai is on the run for attempted murder and kidnapping and likely treason at this point. Both the _daofei_ and the aristocracy want us dead right now. I am running on four hours of sleep and raw fish. So here's what you're going to do. Jinhai is going to bend for you to prove who he is. And then you're going to teach him how to firebend. Because I am not getting on another boat. And I'm sure as hell not getting on one for as long as it'll take to sail to the Fire Nation."

When Jinhai and Dorjee poke their heads inside the doorframe, the scene they find is laid out as such:

Hotaru has a firm grip on the firebender's ear with one hand while the other is placed on her hip. Ahote is sprawled on the floor, halfway sat up in order to release the pressure on his ear, and his face is twisted in pain. Broken glass and clay is littered across the wooden slat floors and the small kitchen table has been turned on its side.

"Ow! _Fine!_ Fine, just let go of my ear, dammit!"

Hotaru presses down on his ear harder to make a point, eliciting a cry of pain, before making a satisfied noise. When she releases his ear, Ahote scrambles away as fast as he can on his hands and knees. He stands, dusts his pants off, and scowls. When he lets out a tightly reigned breath, smoke billows from his nostrils.

"You're really the Avatar?" he asks.

Jinhai steps into the hut and places his hands in the pockets of a (stolen) pair of trousers. He shrugs. "I guess so."

Ahote sighs and rubs his face. Deliberates how to handle one untrained earthbender, the Avatar, and a thus-far silent companion who looks like she's never worked a day in her life. Black paint flecks off, turns his tan hands smoky. The paint around his eyes looks to be days old.

Then he looks to the roof, places his hands together, and says a quick murmured prayer. Jinhai can't tell if it's one of forgiveness or gratitude, but when he's finished he looks resigned and mildly bored.

"Of course, I'll need you to prove who you are."

"I can do that."

"And if I'm going to teach you, you're going to learn the way I did–through hard work and discipline. If I ask you to jump, you'll ask how high on the way up. Firebending is difficult to learn as a child. As a grown adult… it's even more difficult to train your chi."

"I'm a quick study. And half my lineage is Fire Nation if that means anything."

"Not really," Ahote drawls and his thin eyes narrow. "I'll need you to do one other thing."

"Which is?"

"When I've trained you and you're a master, I'll require payment. You'll go with me to my tribe and help me regain my rightful role as chief."

Jinhai cocks his head in confusion. "Aren't tribes and chiefs like a waterbender thing? Shouldn't you–I don't know–be gunning for your right as Fire Lord or something more appropriate? Warlord?"

Ahote frowns, again. "When you claimed to be of the islands, I assumed you'd have some knowledge of your country's history and culture. I am a Sun Warrior. We are a group of firebenders who live by the old ways and, as such, we do not concern ourselves with politics the same way our brothers do on the main islands. We live isolated in order to connect with the greater world and forge deeper connections with our kinsmen. I have no wish to rule the entire nation. I only want to reclaim my role as chief, which was wrongfully taken from me."

Jinhai considers this. "I need a teacher. You need muscle." He shares a meaningful look with Hotaru and Dorjee and finds no protest in their response. "It's not like I have a whole lot else planned to do or other firebenders lining up to teach me. You've got yourself a deal."

**ii. **

Makappu is a sleepy town sandwiched between the mountains and the gulf. Hotaru learns on her third day there that the mountain for which the town is named is really a dormant volcano.

"The fortuneteller says that it won't erupt for a long time. The _clouds_ say so."

A villager tells her this when she makes a trip into town to discover exactly where they'll be spending their time for the unforeseeable future. Hotaru has to resist the urge to smack her forehead, shake the villager by the shoulders. Even she, an orphan with no real education, knows that the _clouds_ didn't determine the future.

"The clouds? What do the clouds have to do with anything?" She does her best to keep her voice even but the disdain on the villager's face tells her she hasn't done a very good job.

"Aunt Daiyu has a book of what the clouds and their shapes mean. She reads them once a month to see if the volcano will erupt and see what fortune the village will receive. Last month's reading said that the volcano won't erupt for a long time. She also said I'd meet the love of my life when I was wearing a yellow flower in my hair!"

Hotaru bites the inside of her cheek and adjusts the basket of cloth on her hip. She wants to ask _how often do you wear a yellow flower in your hair? _but their presence on the mountain with Ahote has already made them outsiders. And she's pushing her luck already.

"Well," she says, smiling, "I'm sure you'll find them soon."

The more time she spends in town that day, the more she begins to understand that Daiyu's fortunes are largely used to keep the village peaceful and happy. They're ridiculous and harmless prophecies most of the time, but Makappu is tranquil in a way most cities haven't been since before the Twenty Year War and Hotaru understands needing to believe in something higher than yourself. Wu, the fortuneteller's apprentice who can't be more than six or seven suns old, spends most of her time moseying about the village square, settling conflicts and creating matches with information she gleams from other villagers.

Makappu's balance is carefully kept by the Fortuneteller. It doesn't take the woman long to send someone to see who has caused such an uproar in her town.

On her third day into town, it is Wu who helps Hotaru locate the general store where she purchases the cloth to make clothes for their ragtag trio. (It's not hard to figure out that the girl's intentions aren't completely altruistic. Daiyu has sent her to figure out why strangers are seeking help from the firebender on the mountain–how long are they staying, who are they, will they cause any trouble.)

Hotaru gives Wu enough information to keep the town's gossip mill appeased, but keeps enough secret so that they don't suddenly become a beacon to every enemy chasing them.

"Most people don't trust Ahote," Wu tells her when she walks her back through town to the mountain path. "Auntie Day says it's because of the ock-you-pay-shun that happened before I was born."

"The occupation?" Wu nods her confirmation. "I suppose. Some people were like that in my own city. We were lucky enough to avoid the war but a lot of people moved to us and they brought their ideas with them."

"Where are you from?" Wu asks, her big brown eyes sharp beneath a mass of dark curly hair.

"It's far away. I don't think you'd know it."

Wu makes a _hmph! _noise but doesn't turn back to the village even after her line of questioning has been stubbed out yet again. She's found a row of rocks to walk on and has her arms stretched out at her sides to keep her balanced, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth in concentration. Hotaru resists a smile. She may be Daiyu's mole but she's still just a little girl. She remembers being that young, remembers finding fun in such small things.

_Now your best friend is the Avatar, you're on the run, you're homeless, exhausted, and you're due for a seizure any day now. _

Hotaru sighs.

_All in a day's work._

When they reach the end of the road and a wooden arc marks the start of the mountain path, she turns to Wu and crouches on her knees to meet her eye to eye.

Hotaru offers her hand. "Thanks for helping me out today. I'm glad to have made a friend."

The apprentice's face lights up and grabs her hand. Wu's hand is infinitesimally smaller than her own and a little sticky, but the happiness on the little girl makes any uncomfort worth it.

"I'll see you later, stranger lady!" Wu says, waving over her shoulder as she skips and runs back into Makappu.

Hotaru watches the girl until she sees the girl make it back to town before realizes before walking up the mountain. She winces when a shiver–the tell-tale sign of a seizure–grips her tight.

When she makes it to Ahote's hut, Jinhai and the firebender are out back and–_are they dancing?_

"How long have they been at this?" she asks Dorjee who's found a spot on a rock nearby. A tornado spirals in the airbender's palm, widening and thinning itself out like a spinning top.

Dorjee sighs. "Since right after you left for town. They were testing Jinhai's limits earlier. Apparently he can bend someone else's fire but he can't make his own. Ahote said this is supposed to help him channel his chi better."

"But… it's a _dance_."

"Sometimes when I saw Kiran bend, I thought her waterbending looked like dancing. It always looked so different from the way… from the way Ahn bent earth. He never moved. It was like he bullied the earth around."

"Ahn was a piece of crap," says Hotaru with a scowl and she slumps to the ground. Digging out her needle, thread, and the fabric she bought in town, she begins on making a new shirt for Dorjee, who refused to steal any clothes and is still wearing a very grimy, torn version of the dress she wore to the gala. "And I saw him bend. He was stupid. I've seen better."

Dorjee looks at Hotaru out of the corner of her eye and her mouth tilts. "Like Jinhai?"

Hotaru shoves her needle through the fabric violently and hisses when it pricks her thumb. Sucking the blood off her finger, she uses it as an excuse to avoid Dorjee's prodding.

"He's definitely better than my ex-fiancé," Dorjee concedes and props her chin on her hand. Her eyebrows slash over her eyes when she mentions her abuser, wrinkling her forehead and the corners of her eyes.

Hotaru had to give it to the girl. She'd expected more… she wasn't sure but it wasn't this. Dorjee had been relatively normal and stable since they arrived in Makappu. During the day, she practiced airbending, albeit hesitantly, and was working her way past the parlor tricks she'd been chained to. She was determined to be more than the _little bird _and so Dorjee had taken it upon herself to retrieve water from a stream located a mile east each day. There were blisters on her feet and bruises across her shoulders from where the bar laid across her shoulders, but Dorjee didn't seem to mind these bruises. They were a sign that she was becoming self-sufficient and Dorjee was proud of the calousses growing on her hands and feet.

"I was never allowed to work," she told Hotaru, showing her the cracking, raw skin on her palms. "My hands were always soft. These tell me I'm stronger. That I don't have to rely on him ever again."

The only time Dorjee ever seemed to show signs of her previous life were at night. She suffered from terrible nightmares that ripped her from her sleep. Some nights she woke screaming. Others she just cried. Ahote originally let them pile in front of the fire place in his hut but after the third night of Dorjee waking him, he'd helped Jinhai build a lean-to behind the hut and lit them a fire to keep them warm at night.

Ahote wasn't a man of very many words and usually had a sour disposition, but he hadn't seemed mad at Dorjee. Just tired and in search of a solution. He'd actually been rather tender with her so far and though only Hotaru and Jinhai knew what she'd been through, Ahote seemed understand without having been told and made small efforts to make Dorjee's life simpler.

"But," Dorjee continues and a slash of guilt slides through Hotaru as she tunes back into the other girl's conversation. "I think you might be biased in all things Jinhai related. I may be the world's worst airbender but I'm not stupid or blind. I think even a blind girl could see it."

"What are you talking about?" Hotaru murmurs and begins embroidering a small design on the sleeve of Dorjee's new shirt. It's black thread on white linen, tracing the shape of a raven eagle. _You're not a little bird anymore._

Dorjee makes a noise in the back of her throat. The more Hotaru gets to know the girl, she discovers that Dorjee is spunky–and, sometimes, spunky bleeds into a little bitter and angry, but given the circumstances, she's entitled to her fury.

"Oh, I don't know." Dorjee hums, taps her lip with her pointer finger. Then she leans in close, brushes shoulders with Hotaru. "Maybe I'm talking about the fact that that he's kind of disgustingly in love with you."

Hotaru scoffs. _Absurd_. She can't stop the heat that rushes to the tips of her ears. "He treats me like I'm his little sister. We grew up together and we're each other's family. That's it. That's all it's ever been."

"I doubt it. You didn't see him when you had that seizure in the alley. He was terrified. He carried you all the way to the Estate and only left your side when he was sure you were getting the best treatment possible. And when he was too scared to airbend at the gala, he looked for you in the crowd. He's always aware of where you're at. He blushes anytime you compliment him. And he's always looking for a reason to touch you. It's definitely not sisterly love. Or maybe it is. But if that's sisterly love, I want no part in it."

"You're wrong," she says but doubt wiggles in the back of her mind and she searches Jinhai out on the field. He's still going through forms, his knees bent and his forearms crossed over one another. His face is twisted in concentration but she sees the familiar sheen of irritation in his hazel eyes. She turns back to Dorjee, sees the mischief on her mouth, and scowls.

"And you want to know something even crazier?"

"Absolutely not."

"I think you love him, too–and _not_ like a brother."

Hotaru pauses, sets her embroidery down–the raven eagle is nearly done with deep black feathers and beak of silver thread–and sighs. "I… I don't. He's not… He won't… You wouldn't understand."

"I think I do. I spent enough time watching people when I was with the Chens. I know what I see. You're both stubborn and you both think the same thing, that you only think of the other as a brother or sister. It's stupid." The airbender shrugs and tosses a handful of long, black hair behind her shoulder. It's moments like this one that remind Hotaru of the elegant, perfect girl she was bred to be, down to the flick of her slender wrist and the tilt of her head. For some, the natural response would be jealousy. Hotaru just feels sad. "If you just talk to him, I think you both could stop being so miserable and stop overthinking something so simple."

"Talk to him?" Hotaru gawks. "Tell him? Oh, no. That would be too much. Oh, no. No, ma'am. No, sir."

Dorjee lets lose a sharp laugh. She begins to say something else but she's overshadowed by sudden shouting and the crackle of earth as it moves.

Hotaru places a hand on the ground to sturdy herself and the ground moves out from beneath her and grabs Dorjee's hand before she can slip off the rock she sat on.

Jinhai and Ahote are fighting and the Avatar looks angry. Hotaru hasn't seen him this angry in a while–excluding his assault on Ahn, which she wouldn't classify as angry. That was pure, white-hot fury, calculated and focused, enforced by a long line of powerful souls. This is sloppy rage, the color red and orange with nothing to sustain it.

Ahote is nimble, bending and blocking the earthen attack with graceful streams of fire. His fire is a living, breathing creature kept on a long leash. She'd never seen him bend before but the performance gives her a hint as to why the Chens have paid him to protect shipments and why the village keeps him around for protection from bandits.

When Jinhai's anger fizzles out and he collapses to the ground, crumpled to his knees with his hands dug into the dirt, Hotaru wants nothing more than to go up to him and hug him. She wants to provide comfort. It'd been so hard since they left Xianghao. She'd seen his struggle as clear as day and tried to be the rock he'd needed. Jinhai had spent so long taking care of her; she wanted to do the same for him.

Hotaru begins to push herself up off the ground but a sharp shake of Ahote's head tells her that this fit is purposeful. He needs to learn a lesson and so she can't wrap him in her arms, hold his head to her chest.

She sits back down.

Ahote crouches in front of Jinhai. Dorjee's hand squeezes her own, fingernails digging into the back of her hand. Hotaru knows–despite her bravado, despite her sharp edges and tongue, she's still terrified. And outbursts like this one? They take her back to another angry, heavy-hitting hand. Hotaru squeezes Dorjee's hand in return, swipes her thumb over the back of it.

_I am the rock. _

"Why won't you bend?" Ahote says. His deep voice is quiet but carries across the clearing easily. "I can feel the fire in you. You've trapped it. Made it small. Why?"

"I'm not _trapping_ anything," Jinhai says through clenched teeth. He spits a mouthful of spit to the side and looks up with sharp, glowering eyes. Hotaru can feel his rage where she sits. "You're just a shit teacher."

Ahote hums and stands. "You can bend," he says again. "But you won't. As the Avatar and per our agreement, you need to learn to firebend. So I ask again: Why?"

Silence hangs over the clearing, sits heavy on her heart. Hotaru knows why. She knows Jinhai's soul in and out, knows who he is outside of the Avatar, and wants him just as he is. She wants the parts even that he hates, the ones he locks away and makes so small.

"I know your face," Ahote says. The black paint around his eyes, freshly-painted today, makes him look like a vengeful spirit. "Our brothers in the mainland share it. You said you have mixed-blood."

"Yes, I do." Jinhai looks to the side, casts his eyes down heavy with shame.

"You hate yourself for it."

Jinhai rocks back onto his heels, sits, and buries his head in his hands. "Yes."

"You hate the half of your body that comes from a place responsible for burning the Foggy Swamp and destroying an entire culture. You hate it because of what was done to the airbenders and what was done to the Water Tribes. You think your blood is bad. You think you are destined to be bad because of your blood. You think it because you can feel the rot in your soul."

"Yes."

"You are right. Fire destroyed all of that."

Another tremor runs through the ground and Hotaru's heart twists as the cracks in Jinhai's armor turn into gaping crevices. Jinhai's origin was something she'd never been able to get him to talk about. It'd always remained a festering, open wound that only worsened the older they got. Now, Ahote was slicing it open, draining the infection, cauterizing the wound so that _finally_ it could heal.

"But fire also freed the airbenders when it was used against the Fire Lord. It is used to keep you warm and to cook your meals. You gather around it and laugh and you feel it when the sun shines on your back. Fire was used by the hundreds of Avatars who came before you and it will be used by the hundreds of Avatars who will follow. Your successor will be born a firebender. Does this make them rotten? Does their body make them wrong? Does my blood, my bending, make me rotten?"

Jinhai pauses, whistles a low breath. A tear makes a track down his cheek. "No, but–"

"My tribe calls itself the Sun Warriors because we believe that firebending is the manifestation of the fire in our soul. It's our life source, the essence of our being, a tiny, little sun held inside our bodies that grants us the ability to bend. It gives us the ability to heal the soul, to create art. You are responsible for what your fire does, not the other way around. So embrace what you are, accept that you are a firebender, and bend."

The Avatar takes a moment, quiets the ragged tempo of his breathing. The tremors in the earth still and there is only the warmth of the coming spring's sun on their backs. Ahote stands firm with his chin raised, a picture of power and control, and he offers his hand to the boy on the ground.

When the boy takes it and rises, he stands taller and lighter. Something unspoken and untouchable lies discarded on the ground, forgotten as he grasps his teacher's hand.

Ahote nods. It's a single, sharp movement of his head, but it says enough. Jinhai falls into the dance, lays his forearm over the other, dips into his knees, and sweeps his ankle around.

This time, it's not just a dance.

This time, fire follows in a burning wake that scorches the path it follows.

**iii. **

Once he lets the guilt go, the burden he'd been saddled with since birth, Jinhai finds that he prefers the flame to the earth. It's fast-paced, dangerous, and it quiets the storm in his mind. It burns through his blood, warms the cold places inside him.

He takes to it naturally, as if its as instinctive as breathing. The guilt is still there but the fire keeps it locked away.

The way Ahote teaches him is more than the anger and brutality he'd expected. It devours what he feeds it and his flame has grown under the desire to be _more_.

_More than an orphan. More than a criminal. More than a failure. _

He devotes himself to his training. Consumes all that Ahote has to offer. Breathes fire and bends it like he'd done it his entire life.

**iv. **

Dorjee has nightmares. But so does Jinhai.

He doesn't wake screaming like the airbender girl. Rather, he sits up straight, shivers under the cold touch of a finger dragging down his spine, feels tracks on his face from tears he doesn't remember shedding. There's a name. It's whispered in his ear and it falls through his hands like sand, always out of reach.

He can't remember what it is, but he knows it's nothing good. It grinds his teeth together and fills him so full of ice that most nights he sneaks out to practice his firebending, just to put a little warmth back in his body.

The nightmares have done something else, too. Or maybe the nightmares are a side-effect.

The space Kei had begun to occupy since the spirit attack in the forest has been void since he tried to meditate at the Chens' gala. Jinhai can't meditate into the Spirit World or contact his past lives and he's sure it's not just his lack of spirituality. Each time he tries, he finds a hard wall and a force violently throws him back into his body.

He hasn't told Ahote, Dorjee, or even Hotaru. Something always stops him when he tries, like his lips have been sewn shut with one of Hotaru's sharpest needles.

Jinhai bends his fire, chases away the cold, and returns to bed to continue dreaming of something _other–_something evil and cold and with a laughter like glass breaking.

**v.**

When he's not practicing firebending during the day, he's teaching Hotaru how to earthbend at night. They go to a spot a couple miles away, a rocky ravine whose sturdiness easily withstands the chaotic nature of Hotaru's bending.

She struggles to learn control and most of their beginning lessons end in a seizure. It's nearly been enough for him to call it off, to demand they find another way because she _terrifies_ him when she is like that, but she is as stubborn as he is.

Slowly, she learns. It's all basic forms and strong, sturdy stances that he's seen other earthbenders use. The entire earth groans when she bends, shivers and quakes under her reign, and Jinhai gets a workout of his own simply trying to counteract the shockwaves of power that roll off her. He's never seen her so happy when she manages to launch a boulder across the ravine. And even better, the seizures, which had intensified under the stress of his new identity, wane.

Jinhai wants to sigh a breath of relief. It's the longest he's felt safe since the attack in the forest. He's growing into an Avatar people can respect and for the first time he's with people he trusts wholly. But there's always something, always crawling, creeping, and he can't shake the unease in his gut, even when Hotaru grips his hand and leans her head on his shoulder.

He waits for the other shoe to drop.

Eventually, it does.

**vi. **

Despite their best efforts and Ahote's oath of silence–he has ties to the Chens who undoubtedly are searching for their ragtag ground but his desire to go home outweighs his purchased loyalty–it doesn't take long for the village to discover that the Avatar is among them.

It's two months after her arrival that Wu asks her why she didn't tell her that she was travelling with _the Avatar_. (Hotaru suspects that the girl, per Aunt Daiyu's request, followed her to the hut and watched Jinhai train. She both applauds the girl's ability to hide and berates their group's inability to sense her.) Hotaru freezes, quickly excuses herself and runs right back up the mountain.

"They know," she says, stumbling into the clearing where Jinhai is executing a series of quick kicks and punches power by orange fire, and their delicate balance breaks.

Jinhai sighs. Pauses his bending. Sends a rock tumbling–not with bending but with simple physical force–with a sharp kick of his foot.

"We've got to leave, then," he says simply.

They know the whispers will spread past the village and their enemies will begin the hunt again–from the _daofei_ to the Chens to those who simply no longer want an Avatar in their world–so they quickly begin to plan and pack what few belongings they have for the journey to the Western Air Temple. Jinhai, for all his strengths, simply isn't ready to take on his enemies; he's a decent bender, but he's not yet quite an full-fledged Avatar.

"Ahote, are you coming–" Hotaru begins when they discuss the journey of a dinner of grilled fish from the docks.

"This building is not my home. I do not care to leave it," Ahote says matter-of-factly. He slices into Hotaru with sharp eyes and makes a noise of disappointment low in his throat. His nose twists with scorn. "And he needs protection. Neither you nor the airbender are equipped to provide it."

Hotaru–who was by far the most experienced with the town, even more so than Ahote since he never left the mountainside–clears her throat, shaking of the sting of Ahote's words. _I'm learning, aren't I? But it's not enough. He's right. I can't protect him. _

"There's another fishing boat we could book passage with to one of the islands near the temple. It's owned by a waterbending family. I talked to the son, Suluk. I got the impression they'd take us just about anywhere if we paid them decently."

Ahote grunts. "I've heard of them. The father died during the nationalist movement that followed the Twenty Year War. Got caught in the crosshairs of a conflict here in town when some Fire Nation citizens were traveling through back to the islands. They'd fallen on some difficult times. His mother isn't fond of any firebenders, period, but Suluk has hired me behind her back for a few protection on some of his more dangerous jobs over the last two years. He'll take us where we need to go."

With their passage west determined and their belongings packed, there isn't much left tying them to the small town of Makappu. Suluk agrees to take them–for a hefty price–and he says the winds and waters will be good near the end of the week.

The days pass. White clouds merge over the limitless peak of Mount Makappu and a bright sun puts a little more color into all of their skin. She's happy, but something she can't quite pin makes it feel temporary. Maybe it's the volcano. She can feel it… _moving_ beneath the mountain. Not awakening. Nothing dangerous like that. But a certain energy that licks at her skin and raises the fine hairs on the back of her neck. She can feel it whispering to her when she sleeps, worming into her mind, speaking in a tongue she's never heard before.

When the whispers grow into a low, deep grumble, she thinks Jinhai can hear it, too. And Dorjee. She's pretty sure the only one immune is Ahote until she sees his face without paint and the dark circles under his eyes are shown all too apparently.

Something in the mountain has changed–or drawn attraction–and it is not a friendly presence.

**vii. **

Dorjee bursts into the hut with terror on her face and a gust of wind hot on her heels.

"Something is coming down the mountain!" she says panting while her hand grips the edge of the door. Her knuckles are white and her hair, which usually sits in a low ponytail, blows every which way.

"What do you mean _something is coming down the mountain_?" Jinhai asks. "All that's up there is magma."

"I don't know. But they're horrific." She chokes on a ragged breath. "They're huge and fast and covered in green scales and their eyes are a terrible yellow."

And suddenly, it's as if Jinhai has seen a ghost. He springs from his spot on the ground, pushes past Dorjee and through the door. The beast she spoke of have charged past Ahote's hut, leaving deep claw marks in the ground as they went.

He knows these beasts. They were in the woods when he entered the Avatar State. They slaughtered the caravan of men, who'd all been talented benders in minutes.

And, now, they're headed toward the village.

"We have to help them," he says.

Ahote says nothing. Instead, he grabs a pair of arm bracers with a red and orange triangular pattern sewn into it from beside the hearth and pulls them on. (According to the Sun Warrior, they help him focus his bending, though Jinhai isn't sure how that is supposed to work.)

"Let's go. You two, stay here. Neither of you have any sort of offensive training. You'll just get yourself or someone else hurt."

Dorjee makes a sound of protest that Ahote silences with a single look. The airbender shrinks into herself, crosses her arms over her chest, and turns her head to the side.

Jinhai and Ahote make quick work of traveling down the mountain. It's easy to track the beasts even in the dark since their chosen path has left crater-sized paw marks. And finally, when the village begins to scream and fire eats up the straw and wood buildings, they know that the monsters have found their mark.

Jinhai travels on a piece of earth that moves underneath him the way earth moves after an earthquake. Shockwaves of earth propel him forward with each swing of his arms. Ahote keeps pace by running alongside him, each step heightened by a burst of flame from each foot.

When they reach the village, there's no time to stop and make a plan. Time is bleeding together the way it did in Yao's ring and when he dismounts the wave of earth, the first thing Jinhai does is shove a pillar of earth through the belly of a creature. It's all instinct and second-nature and the way the earth feels when it cuts through flesh is an all-too-familiar sensation.

The creature falls onto its back, snapping and howling, acid dripping from its mouth.

The beast takes a step toward him with its row of black teeth on display, falters as blood and ichor seep from the wound in its stomach, and explodes into a cloud of ash.

Its almost-victim, a middle-aged woman, looks between Jinhai and the space where the beast once stood. They share a look, a wordless conversation–_are you alright? Yes_–before Jinhai moves and begins the process of fighting more of the creatures.

It's nighttime but the fire swallowing the village's homes provides enough light to make a false day. This go around, the light puts him on even-footing. These spirits–though he likes to think of them as monsters, they _are_ spirits–are beings of the night and their advantages are provided in the shadows. Now that he can properly aim, he's cutting down the spirits in bulk, pushing them away from the villagers and giving them a chance to get to safety.

Fire bleeds into earth and air and his blood roars with power and purpose.

When one of them slams into his back, teeth sinking into the flesh of his bicep, he finds that those black teeth drip not only with blood but with poison, too. It's paralyzing and terrifying and he can feel his eyes rolling, searching for a light that refuses to emerge from the dark.

But the light never comes. Whatever shut him out of the Spirit World has cut him off from Kei's unbridled, unforgiving rage. He has no one to protect him but himself.

Jinhai digs his fingers into the earth, grabs a handful of it with his good arm, and wields it like it's a blade before digging it into the skull of the spirit made flesh. Ichor sprays across his face, burns his eyes and he gasps, spluttering to spit out the poison.

The spirit bursts into ash and he lays on the ground, shuddering with his fingers dug into his arm. His blood feels hot and slick beneath his fingers and his mind wanders like smoke in the wind. Around him, he can hear the fight roar on until–_finally–_it comes to an end and the only sound is the crackle of the fire as it digests what remains.

His breath is shallow and with each exhale he can feel the fire breathing, slowing, with him. Even as injured as he is, he can't deny his true nature: that he, the bastard from Xianghao's fighting pits, is a force of nature.

"_Hey, hey, are you alright?_"

A face–or perhaps it's two because they continue merging and splitting in his vision–appears in front of him. Tan skin, blue eyes, long hair that is tied behind his back in three tails.

"_Oh, shit, here you are. Ahote! Over here. Hold on. Dammit._"

There's the feeling of being flushed out, like he's being filled to the brim with water like a balloon bursting. And then he's being stitched together. The two faces merge into one and stay that way. Jinhai blinks and the cloud that'd weighed heavy over his mind only moments ago lifts.

And then as soon as the cloud is gone, a wave replaces it, crashing down over his body and he's not strong enough to fight it as it carries him to sleep.

**viii. **

When Jinhai comes to, he's in a canvas tent and a boy close to his age hovers above him. There's a cut on his forehead just about his left brow and his lip is swollen. Light from a gaslamp shades the stranger's brown face in ebony and dances off the gold loops in his ears.

The boy's mouth moves but Jinhai cannot hear what he says. He rubs his left ear with the heel of his palm and blinks slowly.

A rattling cough seizes Jinhai by the throat. His lungs spasm and burn as a vengeful reminder of the heavy gray soot he'd laid and breathed for hours. The boy bends water out of a pouch at his side and into Jinhai's mouth. The water soothes Jinhai's chest and eases some of the nausea pulsing through him but he still feels like a spinning top on the verge of toppling.

"How are you feeling?" the boy says.

As he begins to push himself up in the cot, his shoulder throbs in protest, though its not near as painful as it should be given the spirit almost ripped his arm right off.

Jinhai places his hand over the bandage wrapped around his shoulder and arm. The wound is there and the spirit's teeth will definitely leave a massive scar, but it's not bleeding like it was or nearly as deep.

"How?" he croaks.

The boy bends water around his hands and the water begins to glow a light blue. With half of his mouth cocked in a smile, he says, "I healed you. Northern Water Tribe technique. I was supposed to be your captain. Sully, at your service, Avatar."

A figure pulls back the entrance flap of the tent and dips inside. He immediately recognizes it as Ahote. Like Sully, there are obvious signs of battle. A deep purple bruise spreads across Ahote's jaw and his arm is pulled into a sling. His black face paint has been mixed with blood and mud so that his amber eyes peek through like two shining gems.

"Look who's rejoined the living. How are you?" the Sun Warrior says.

"Better than I expected." Jinhai jerks his chin towards the entrance where he can see shadows and light moving beyond the canvas. "What's going on out there? What happened to the _yokai_?"

"The spirits are gone," says Ahote. "We destroyed a large group of them in the fight but they kept spawning out of the volcano. Then, suddenly, they vanished. We're not sure why."

"What about the people? Are they okay? How many dead?"

Ahote clears his throat. "While you were recovering, Suluk and I put out the majority of the flames and recovered the bodies. There were only five deaths and Dorjee and Hotaru are helping the injured now. We found a safe place for the survivors to stay to the east and made camp." There's a pause before he continues. "Some of the children are missing. And they're not among… those recovered. We think the spirits took them."

"My sister is missing," Suluk says after a moment. His mouth is drawn tight and his eyes are slanted with grief, any humor from before long gone. "I lost her in the fight and haven't seen her since."

"He's agreed to still take us to the air temple, but he's going to stay with us," Ahote says.

"I figure if anyone has a shot of finding my sister… well, it's _you_. Help me find her, please. Help me, and I'll teach you everything you need to know about waterbending."

**ix. **

_Sora, _

_The United Republic is sending me back to the Fire Nation. Whatever balance the interment ruler found is gone. The country has fallen into chaos again. The people are rioting and the mobs threaten the walls of the capital for the first time in a decade._

_It appears twenty years wasn't enough for the loyalists' influence to die out; their numbers are strong and they're still very angry. They claim Iroh is weak for allowing the republic to force their country into submission. That, and the fear that Jinhai's emergence has brought will likely make my stay in the Fire Nation a long and tedious one. The republic wants the Fire Nation to see peace, but are unwilling to put resources into the effort. For all the good they've done, they don't seem to realize depriving the Fire Nation and keeping them in poverty is doing more harm than good. _

_I will not be able to meet you to escort the boy while he grows into a fully-realized Avatar._

_But I trust that you will be able to handle this job. Send me letters by hawk to update me of your safety when you can and I'll share them with Jia. You know how your mother gets. _

_Love,_

_Your Father_

_p.s. has there been any news of more spirit attacks or missing people? I may not be able to be there to help you resolve the issue but I can pass the information along to my lieutenant. _

**x. **

_Father,_

_I've followed the Avatar's trail north to a town called Makappu. It was recently attacked by spirits that fit the same description as the other sightings in the Earth Kingdom. The spirits also took three children during the attack, none of which have been seen or found since. Hopefully your lieutenant can find some kind of information as to why they've been so volatile and where the missing can be found._

_I spoke with the survivors and they say that it was the Avatar who helped fight the spirits off. After, he set west on a boat for the air temple only a few days ago._

_I'll be heading that way. Seeing as he booked passage on a ship, I should be able to make it there ahead of them on the airship. I'll send another hawk when I arrive._

_Stay safe,_

_Sora_

_p.s. tell mother I'll be fine. But, if she'd like to send some treats along with the next letter, I'd much appreciate it. _

**xi. **

When they reach the air temple, they stand at the base of a mountain so high that the temple that sits atop it vanishes deep into the clouds.

They aren't there for long, deliberating on how they'll reach the peak when two members of their crew are injured and it's ordinarily reached by sky bison to begin with, when something emerges out of the horizon.

It starts as a small dot on the sky. But as the moments pass, it grows larger and larger, until that dot grows horns and arrows appear on its white fur.

"Is that a…?" Hotaru begins, hand cupped over her eyes.

"It's a _sky bison_!" Dorjee exclaims. Her hands clap together and a smile–a _true_ smile–bursts across her face. A giddy laugh slips past her lips and even Ahote (who is known for his sour frown and gruff demeanor) can't stop a smile from passing over his face at the unadulterated joy radiating from Dorjee.

When the sky bison and its companion land, the airbender girl is buzzing with energy.

The rider dismounts the bison and flutters to the ground on a soft wind. His robes catch around him and spin and whorl, like butterfly wings.

He looks at them, all five of them in their bloodied clothes (because the fight never, ever seems to stop), and smiles. It's subtle, aged properly around the mouth with good humor.

"Come," the monk says. "There's someone who's been waiting to meet you for a long time, Avatar."

* * *

_tbc._


	12. Book Three, Part VI: Earth

**Synopsis:** Aang recieves a vision of the future during the storm in which he freezes himself and is presented with a choice: Envoke the Avatar State and remain frozen for one hundred years or drown and reincarnate so the next Avatar can save what remains of his people post-genocide. The choice is not easy. It takes a full cycle to bring the world back to peace.

**Author's Note:** hello, babies! i hope everyone had a good holiday season. i tried working on this fic while i was on winter break but quickly discovered this is what i write when i'm stressed... ergo when i'm at school. so i ended up putting some work into my original project over the break and picked this fic back up and wrote close to 20k words over the last week while i was nigh on a mental breakdown. yeehaw, folks. textbooks are expensive. so **next wednesday, i promise another update** so keep an eye for for that one. it's a fun one. (it's already written and edited and ready to go. but i figure i'll give y'all time to process this whole ass chapter and mentally prepare for the next.)

even tho she never actually reads the chapters themselves on ff and reads them on my google doc, i'm writing a quick shout out and thank u to my bff who i shall call leigh baby. without her, half of my sentences would remain unfinished bc my adhd brain can't finish shit half the time. she's the best editor a girl can ask for and u can definitely tell when a chapter got posted without her revision. so! appreciate her!

also, ps, i cross post this story on **ao3**. i'm under the same user name but i'm finding it's a LOT easier to interact w my readers on there. so if you're looking to interact w me more there, i'm actually able to respond to comments there. (but do know that i read every comment yall leave and u always make my mf day).

ONE LAST NOTE before i let u get to this chapter. **someone drew fan art for this story** and sent it to me. like. real ass. fan art. i know. i lost my mind. they're two portraits of kei and dorjee. i'm shit at formatting here on ff so i'm trying to hyperlink it to my bio on my profile, but if u don't see it there, it's for sure available to look at on my ao3 account.

* * *

**BOOK THREE: EARTH  
****PART VI  
**_AVATAR JINHAI_

_Be the leaf._

**i. **

Instead of making an ascent into the sky, the bison makes a loop around the mountain and dives downward with a groan. The wind rips and tugs at Jinhai's hair, tangling the curls into a ratty mess. When he works up the courage to open his eyes, which he'd squeezed shut at take-off, he finds that Hotaru is gripping the edges of the saddle with white knuckles and a green face much like he is.

Sure, he has the potential to be a master airbender but he is an earthbender at heart and he much prefers the ground to the sky.

Dorjee, however, seems much more at home. Instead of finding her a point of resistance, the wind flows around her like water splitting around a stone in the river.

Jinhai shuts his eyes again when his stomach rolls. "Someone tell me when we're there and I'll open my eyes!"

Someone laughs and the tinkling, feather-light quality tells him it's Dorjee.

"Jinhai, we _are_ here. Look!"

Peeling his eyes open, he sees Dorjee nearly leaning out of the bison's saddle, pointing to the right with a finger stretched as far is it will go. Ahote's hand hovers by her calf, ready to take hold if she slips. Jinhai follows the line of her arm and sucks in a breath.

The temples are all upside down, attached to the lip of a cliff on the other side of the mountain. Gold accents shine on the top–_or the bottom?_–of each building. The gray stone is polished and ivy thrives as it spiders along the walls. Animals fly and swing between the buildings recklessly, letting loose screeches and howls that he can hear even over the wind. But the closer they get, the easier it is to see where the corners of the buildings have been patched and where scorch marks refuse to be scrubbed out.

Jinhai swallows hard. In two years, it'd be the forty-year anniversary of the Air Nomad Genocide. The survivors were hunted for eighteen years before Fire Lord Azulon was killed and they were allowed to return to their homes. But then, he knew, there were those like Dorjee who'd been sold and enslaved and others who simply never made it home.

His heart swells when they land and he can feel the energy and life swirling all around him. He presses the heel of his palm into his eye to stave off the burn of tears.

"Are you alright?" Hotaru asks, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I don't know what it is. There's just something about this place."

Maybe it's the fountain gurgling just in front of him, its water clean and clear. Or the laughter of two little girls rushing past him on air scooters. Or the lemurs chattering above him as they fly between the steeples of the upside down towers. He's not sure. He just knows that his heart feels as if it's swelling and bursting, both happy and sad. Life has returned to this temple in bright, beautiful sounds and smells and sights–but it is the only one like it. The other three remain empty.

The monk who escorted them to the hidden temple waits as the heavy moment passes. When Jinhai finally pulls together his fraying pieces, he drags his thumbs under his eyes to wipe away the tears. Hotaru's hand is warm on his shoulder and his places his own over it to reassure her.

She removes her hand but before she can fully retreat, he grabs it with his own and laces his fingers through hers.

Jinhai feels her stiffen before relaxing into his touch.

"Are you ready?" the monk asks.

Nodding, Jinhai follows the monk with Hotaru's hand in his grasp. The airbender leads them deeper into the Western Air Temple where murals of their people have been restored in thick lines and bright colors. Towards the end of the hall, a new painting–marked so because the style is different and its subject is recent–depicts the genocide. Bold shades of orange and red make up a striking comet and the Fire Nation soldiers forever remain in position to kill.

They come to a chamber where the air is cooler. Sun streams in through open windows cut into the rock, illuminating the worn rug that a single woman sits upon. With her legs crossed, arms folded, and eyes closed, she poses before a statute of a young boy. Arrows are carved into body and his face is youthful and mischievous. A glider staff is situated in his hand–a real glider staff made of bamboo and cloth, not one carved from stone–and before Jinhai can even begin to wonder who it is, the name comes to him.

_Aang_.

The woman opens her eyes and looks to the monk who brought them to her. "Thank you, Yangkey. I'll take it from here."

Yangkey bows, hands poised differently than the way Jinhai learned with the Chens, and leaves the room. His steps make no noise as he walks.

With the monk gone, the woman turns her attention to the group of teenagers brought to her. Her gaze wanders over them, taking in the cuts and bruises and their posture, before settling on Jinhai.

She bows to him and Jinhai shuffles his feet, suddenly uncomfortable.

"You must be Avatar Jinhai," she says and smiles. "It's an honor to meet you."

Jinhai clears his throat. "Well… thank you for receiving us?"

The woman laughs. Like Dorjee, there's a quality to it that carries throughout the room. "My name is Mela. I was your past-life's airbending master. And now it seems that my life has come full circle as I'll be teaching you again. Please, introduce me to your companions."

**ii.**

Jinhai introduces the members of his ragtag group one by one.

Suluk, the newest member of their group and–_apparently_–his to-be waterbending master. Ahote, the banished Sun Warrior chieftain and his firebending master. Hotaru, the first member of his family and his rock. (She's also the girl he's been in love with since he was fourteen years old, but he keeps that part to himself.)

When he reaches Dorjee, he pauses and clears his throat. She's staring at him with large, hopeful eyes and he nods at her. This is one thing he knows he can do for her, one thing to make right the wrongs the Avatar has done against her and her people. "This is Dorjee. She's been with us since we were in Gaoling. She's an airbender; she needs a teacher too, so she needs to learn with me. That won't be a problem, will it?"

Mela inspects Dorjee–takes in the raven eagle sewn into her shirt that she wears so proudly and the raw skin of her knuckles where they've cracked and bled during the sparring sessions she begged Ahote to have with her; most importantly, she looks at the set of her jaw that says she's preparing for the strike, the next blow, the tense line of her slight shoulders that says she expects to be thrown aside.

_A little bird. Nothing more. _

Jinhai can hear Ahn's voice in his head as clear as day. He's sure Dorjee can too.

"Of course not," Mela murmurs, the crow's feet at the corner of her eyes wrinkling. Without warning, Mela steps forward and cups Dorjee's face with her hands. Then she presses her tattooed forehead to the younger girl's and closes her eyes. Her mouth moves as she says a silent prayer. "It's okay. You can breathe again. You're home."

Dorjee's bottom lip quivers as she stares at the strange woman holding her so closely. It's an intimate moment that nearly forces Jinhai to avert his attention. Her face tightens and her violet eyes shimmer. Moments later, she's in the airbending master's arms, openly weeping.

**iii.**

Later that evening, when they've all settled in and washed away the grime of their journey, they join Mela in the temple's dining area. It's an open room with a single, long chabudai table extending the length of it. Dumplings, rice, steamed tofu, and a variety of fruits and vegetables are laid out upon its surface.

Most of the temple's inhabitants are already there when their group arrives and they quiet when Jinhai enters the room.

He knows his identity is obvious. While talking to the airbenders who helped them settle, he discovered–much to his horror–his mixed ancestry had become a global source of gossip that even reached the secluded Western Air Temple. The gossip and the fact that his features stick out like a sore thumb in a sea of gray eyes, pale skin, and straight, dark hair does little to hide his identity. The only one that looks as out of place as he does is Suluk, whose Water Tribe origins are undeniable and the farthest thing from a traditional airbender as possible.

"I trust you settled in well," Mela says in greeting when she spots them frozen at the entrance of the room. Jinhai's hand tenses where it rests on the small of Hotaru's back.

She is sitting at the head of the table, legs folded beneath her. Her hair is shaved one-third up her forehead, allowing her arrow tattoo, whose blue color has faded with age, to display proudly. Her position and tattoo mark her as a leader. Jinhai wishes one of Kei's memories would present itself to him, so he'd know more about this woman; but, as it's been for a while, his mind is silent.

"Please, take a seat. Eat your fill."

Just like that, conversation floods the room again.

Jinhai and his group take a seat near the middle of the table where five cushions have been left empty. Two little boys (whose heads are indeed shaved but not tattooed) elbow each other and whisper out of the corner of their mouths as they shoot furtive glances at the newcomers. When Jinhai waves at them, mouth quirked in amusement, one of the boys elbows the other even harder one last time before finding great interest in his plate of rice and black beans.

The meal is unlike anything he's ever eaten before. He figures at first glance that the lack of meat would be the biggest shock but it isn't. Something in the spicing and flavoring is earthy and reminds him of summer. Once he accustoms himself to the taste, he clears three plates of rice and vegetable stew and later finds heaven in the fruit pies. (His favorites are peach and cherry.)

Toward the end of the meal, Mela clears her throat. "I must admit that there's something I've been concealing from you, Avatar. Someone arrived at the temple only a day ahead of you and wishes to be formally introduced. I advised her not to come until after the meal in hopes that you might have had time to adjust to your surroundings."

Hotaru bristles at his side like a guard dog. He places a hand on her thigh and squeezes, a silent gesture meant to still the sudden aggression she's taken into her posture. He doesn't blame her. The last few months have been full of unwelcome surprises. But his gut tells him Mela can be trusted. If not for his sake but for her own. She wouldn't invite someone into the temple and put her people at risk when they too had already faced so much adversity.

Mela waves her hand and a young boy with fresh tattoos bows before disappearing around a corner.

Jinhai makes eye contact with the master. She smiles and despite his own reassurances, he can't help the anxiety that snakes through him. Who will the boy bring back? Friend or foe?

He recognises her immediately.

Her black hair is short, cut to her chin, and her frame is short and slight, a misleader to the damage he knew she was capable of doling out. Her forearms are covered by white wrappings that are usually a staple of Water Tribe fashion and his eyes narrow in on her hands. More specifically, the two knuckles he knows can incapacitate a man and temporarily stunt their bending.

_Sora_. Her name is Sora. By all accounts thus far, a friend.

"Hello, Avatar," she chirps. "You're an incredibly hard person to track, you know."

"You found me," he points out. Hotaru reaches for his hand under the table and weaves her fingers through his. He squeezes.

"I did," she concedes, moving forward. She takes a seat next to Mela at the head of the table. Jinhai can't help but feel like the rest of the diners' nightly entertainment. "But I also graduated at the top of my class at a world renoud military school and was advised by someone with personal experience with an Avatar."

After a moment, he guesses. "Jiro?"

"How did you know?" she asks, smiling like they're sharing an inside joke. "Did Auntie tell you?" She picks up a sweet from a platter in front of her and loops her arm through Mela's like they're old friends. The old master looks amused.

"You look alike," he says simply.

"Unusual. Mostly, people tell me I look like my mother."

"I have no clue what your mother looks like. Only your father." Jinhai shrugs. "And you share the same nose and eyes."

Sora hums. "Fair enough. Father will be pleased to know _someone_ thinks I look like him."

Jinhai clears his throat and looks away from the young Fire Nation girl to look at his travelling companions. Dorjee, who had the most exposure to the girl, looks completely at ease. Sully looks a little hesitant but Jinhai can't say he blames him since his last exposure to a true Fire Nation citizen, not someone like Ahote who hailed from a supposedly extinct tribe, had resulted in his father's death. Ahote doesn't look like he cares one way or another as he's too busy scowling at the boiled spinach around his plate.

"What are you doing here, Sora?" he asks and looks to her. He reaches out his bending, lets it crawl through the rocks below them, until it settles on her pulse.

She swallows. Before, she'd been mirthful in her teasing, excited to meet the Avatar. Now, age crawls into her young face. "My family failed you in your last life, Avatar, and my nation did the world a great wrong. I want to restore honor to my family and my country. In order to do so, I want to serve as your protector, if you'll allow me."

Her pulse remains steady. Truthful. Jinhai bites the inside of his cheek. Then he looks to Hotaru. In a single glance, they share a conversation that says all they need to before he makes a decision.

"I don't see why not," he says and grins. "I only have one condition."

Sora's shoulders sag with relief. She tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear. "Which is?"

"Teach us how to chi-block."

She laughs, her youth flooding her face. "It'd be my pleasure, Avatar."

**iv. **

Before they can retire to their rooms for the night–Jinhai won't be sharing a space with Hotaru for the first time in a long time and it feels _weird _because they've always slept in close proximity–they all meet back in the room with Aang's statue.

They sit in a circle, thighs pressed into the cool stone floor. Sora joins them this time and takes a spot next to Mela with Suluk on her right.

"I wish I could give you more time to settle in and get your bearings but I'm afraid that we need to talk about the circumstances that brought you here, Jinhai." Straight to the point. Jinhai could deal with that.

"Of course," he murmurs and shifts. The tip of his knee brushes Hotaru's and he draws on it as a source of comfort.

"Sora arrived yesterday. She told me you fled Makappu where you were being trained in firebending. There was a spirit attack. Children were taken. There have been similar attacks all around the Earth Kingdom and various disappearances at the spiritual hotspots around the world dating back to your birth. That was about all she knew on the issue," Mela says and her mouth purses. "Do you have any more possible information that can tell us what kind of threat we're facing?"

"We're not entirely sure... the first time I encountered those dark spirits was outside of Xianghao several months ago. They killed an entire envoy of men and they were a big enough threat to trigger the Avatar State when I'd never so much as brushed on it my entire life. And trust me when I say I've been in plenty of danger before."

"Can you tell me what the spirits looked like? I might be able to have one of the acolytes research it in the library. That might provide some answers as to what has caused them to go rogue. Spirits usually don't get involved in the physical world's affairs unless they've been insulted directly."

He describes the creatures–their black teeth and yellow eyes, the jaded spikes that flowed off their lupine body. When he's done, Mela admits that the description doesn't ring a bell but intends to find out what they are.

"Is there anything else you can tell us?" she asks. The skin around her dove gray eyes feather when she tilts her head to the side. "Even the smallest of details can help us determine what's causing the imbalance so that we can figure out how to defeat it."

Jinhai swallows and his fists clench. There's something on the tip of his tongue, something he wants to tell her. _Needs_ to tell her. _What is it? What is it what is it what is it?_

He glances at Hotaru and his brow wrinkles. She searches his faces. She's always been able to read him like a book. Sometimes, he's not sure where he ends and she begins. Whatever souls are made of, she's the thread that ties and holds his together. This much he knows.

A headache splits behind his eyes as he thinks harder, tries to recall whatever it is he desperately wants to tell Mela, but it's like his tongue has been bound and sworn to silence. He can't contain his wince when the pain intensifies, hitting him like a road spike driven into the space between his eyes.

"Jinhai, do you mind if I speak for you?" Hotaru asks, touching his bicep. When the pain passes, he looks up at her and into those soft green eyes and clenches his jaw. He shakes his head.

"He's been having nightmares since we left the Chen Estate," she says without looking away from him. "And he hasn't had much success meditating into the Spirit World or contacting his past lives. I've seen him try. And before the Chen Estate, the Avatar State was something Jinhai struggled not to tap into at the slightest change in your emotions. I haven't seen him struggle once since then."

He cocks his head and looks at her strangely. _Yes, those are the words. Why can't I say them? _As the memory unlocks itself as Hotaru voices his thoughts, he remembers he's never told her this. So how does she know?

She finally looks away from him and a blush boils at the tops of her cheeks as she continues talking to Mela. It's hard to focus on much else other than his sudden, raging headache but still warmth flutters in his heart and threatens to stain his own skin pink when he realizes that she watches him as much as he watches her.

_Sisterly concern, _he tells himself, his hummingbird heart betraying him. _That's all she feels. _And yet the words don't feel right–don't feel adequate.

Mela hums. "Do you think you simply struggle with the spiritual side of your Avatar duties or is it more?"

Jinhai tries to respond but his tongue is all tangled in his mouth and his throat goes tight.

"_Sifu_… I don't think he can say," Dorjee says slowly, one eyebrow arched as she watches his mouth open and close like a shored fish. Jinhai points a finger at her, his left eye squeezing shut as another lance of pain races through his eye socket.

"What do you mean he can't say?" Ahote grunts, looming at her where she sits next to him. "Just spit it out, kid."

"Something won't let me," he says, gritting his teeth. "I don't know what it is but it makes it damn near impossible to tell you anything. It _hurts_. Meditating hurts. Where Kei once was in my mind… is empty."

Mela cocks her head. "Interesting," she murmurs. "Spiritual blockages among new Avatars are uncommon but this sounds like something more. Like your spiritual connection has been locked down rather than you have yet to forge one." The master traces the tip of her blue arrow on the back of her hand with her middle finger. "Airbending tends to be the most spiritually-based of all the elements. Perhaps further training and guided meditation will help unravel what has happened to your connection to your past lives."

"Jinhai has yet to waterbend," Suluk offers. "That may be apart of the issue. I can work work him on that and see if that helps with his spiritual progression."

"I agree. Jinhai you can work with Suluk from dawn until midmorning. After that, I'll train you and Dorjee." She turns to the Sun Warrior. "Ahote, do you have any input as his firebending master?"

The warrior grunts. "He's come a long way, but he's far from mastering it. We can work in the evenings. It's better to learn without the sun to rely on anyway." Ahote runs a hand over the sharp point of his jaw. "I am aware of a firebending technique that may be able to sense what is wrong with Jinhai's spiritual connection, though. I've personally never used it. If I could have access to your libraries, I might be able to familiarize myself with it and use it if your methods fail."

"When I ask Yangkey to research the spirits that have been attacking, I'll be sure to tell him that you are to have complete access to our records. If you'd like, you can start on that in the morning."

Ahote grunts again, a silent affirmation and tilts his head in a bow.

"Then it's settled. Jinhai, for the time being, you are to focus on your air and water disciplines. Suluk, you can use the main courtyard with the fountains to teach the Avatar. Residents will be told to avoid the area until you're finished so you should be allowed to train undisturbed. Dorjee, you will begin your training with us tomorrow as well. Ahote, I'll be sure to aid you as must as possible in your research." Mela pauses and looks between Sora and Hotaru. "I can trust I can leave you two to find something to occupy yourselves and not cause trouble at the temple?"

Sora smiles and nudges the master gently in the ribs. "Auntie, when have I have ever caused trouble?"

With a scoff, the old master pushes herself up from the ground. "Sora, you are your father's daughter. Do not mock me."

**v. **

Jinhai is woken roughly the next morning when icy water is thrown in his face. He shoots forward, the remnants of a nightmare still bitter on his tongue, and gasps for air. Jinhai wipes a hand over his face, pushing his damp curls out of his eyes, and squints to see the perpetrator.

"You, my friend, are a hard sonofabitch wake up."

Suluk stands at the side of his bed. He moves his arms in a few quick movements that pulls the water out of Jinhai's bedding and bends it back into a pitcher set off to the side. Birdsong filters through the open window in his room but the sun still hides. Dawn has barely begun to shove aside the darkest parts of the night, still hesitant in its rise.

The young Avatar looks to the two other beds occupied in his room and finds them both empty. Suluk had slept in one–and is obviously accounted for by his shit-eating grin as he towers over Jinhai's pallet–while Ahote took the other but the firebender is nowhere to be seen.

"Where's Ahote?" he asks groggily and wipes the sleep from his eyes. Pushing himself up on his elbows, his blanket falls to his waist to reveal a bare chest.

"Out in the courtyard meditating. Said he wanted to get some sun in before Mela locks him away in the library."

Jinhai grunts and reaches for his shirt. He pulls it over his head in one swift movement.

"I'll never understand how he's such an early riser."

Sully snorts. "For someone who's supposed to be half Fire Nation, you really aren't a morning person. Now get up. You have airbending training with Mela in exactly two hours and we have a lot of ground to cover."

Letting loose a groan, Jinhai stands up and stretches. He's craving another one of those fruit pies from dinner and tells Sully as such as they walk out of the room, shoulder to shoulder.

"You can eat after you're done with me. Think of it this way–today's the hardest part of your day. You've airbended before. Mela's just got to show you how. I've got to figure out how to get you to bend the damn shit to begin with."

Jinhai blows a raspberry. "You're not making me feel any better about this."

**vi.**

His two hours with Suluk pass slower than he would've liked. During that time, the sun fully rises and the temple comes to life. And despite Sully's instance and enthusiasm, he doesn't bend a drop of water.

Jinhai leaves feeling frustrated and angry with himself.

He's always been able to feel the other elements–the earth under his toes, the wind in his hair, the fire in his blood. But water stubbornly remains out of reach. He's never felt the power of the moon the same way he's felt the sun charging his firebending. Maybe he won't be able to connect with the moon until he actually waterbends. Or maybe he's just a shitty Avatar. He's got money on both options.

Suluk walks with him to the kitchens to get breakfast before he begins his training with Mela and Dorjee. When they get there, they wait for the two women and make small talk. It's the first time that they've really been able to sit and get to know each other. So far, Jinhai thinks that he and Sully could be great friends. They've definitely got more in common than he does with Ahote. Sully is an easy-going guy. Ahote? Not so much. The only one who seems to be able to draw him out of his brooding is Dorjee. (It's obvious he's got a soft spot for the airbender. How that is, Jinhai isn't sure since Ahote seems to take the brunt of Dorjee's barbed tongue when she's feeling particularly lively.)

Jinhai can tell Sully is still very worried about his missing sister. He understands. If it were Hotaru who'd gone missing, he would've gone out of his mind with worry.

Clearing his throat, Jinhai sets the remnants of his pastry on the counter. "I want you to know," he begins, "I'm going to do everything in my power to find out where your sister was taken and bring her back."

Sully inhales a shaky breath and his grip on the back of a chair tightens; his knuckles, flecked with silver scars much like his own that stand out amongst an expanse of smooth, brown skin, turn white. "I know," he says quietly. "That's why I came with you."

Jinhai's fingers tap a nervous pattern against the countertop. He's trying to find the right words but dammit if it isn't hard. He's good with easy words, sweet nothings, the sort of things you tell lovers after a night of fun or to con a man out of his watch on the street. He's terrible at being good at the things that matter.

"I know that you've faced a lot of trouble as the Avatar. I know you didn't ask for it and you led a completely different lifestyle before you found out, but I want you to know that you've done a better job at stepping up than most people could ever dream of. That's why I followed you here. If I'm being honest, it's about more than just my sister. You're the type of person I could see myself believing in and I want to help you."

The Avatar sighs, his shoulders moving with the effort. "I'm glad you think so. I know that the world has really moved on from the idea of having an Avatar and if it weren't for this whole spiritual threat, I think they could do fine without one. I think if I wanted to, after I've handled whatever this imbalance is, I could vanish and go away and never have to think twice about being the Avatar again. The world would keep spinning. Time would go on. And I think at first I would've done that in a heartbeat.

"But I've seen things that I can't let go and I have the power to change them. I always wanted to make a difference but never felt like I could because my influence was too small. I always thought _maybe in another lifetime_, you know? But somehow against all odds, I've been given this incredible power and I'm going to use it to make things better. I know Dorjee isn't the only airbender whose been trafficked and abused and I know first hand how bad the organized crime issue has gotten in the Earth Kingdom." Jinhai runs a hand through his hair and frowns. "I have no idea what my life is going to look like a year or even a month from now. I just know that I've been given this lifetime–_me_, not Kei or Aang or whoever will take my place when I'm gone–to do a lot of good in this world. I don't want to waste it."

Sully claps a hand on Jinhai's shoulder and pulls him in for a hug. Jinhai pats the other man on the back awkwardly as the waterbender holds him tight. How long has it been since he's hugged someone other than Hotaru? How long has it been since he touched another _man_? Jinhai clears his throat and resists the urge to blush as he becomes acutely aware of all of the hard planes and dips in Sully's body carved there by years of waterbending as he hugs him.

Behind him, a woman clears his throat. Jinhai jumps away as if he's been caught doing something he shouldn't have but Sully simply hooks an arm around the Avatar's shoulders and grins.

"Well, hello there, Dorjee darling."

The airbender narrows her eyes and scowls. Someone has provided her with traditional Air Nomad clothing; her brown peasant trousers are tucked into a set of leather moccasins that lace up her calves and a red sash lays over an peachy tunic. Her black hair is pulled back and tied loosely towards the ends in a style he's seen many of the women at the temple wear. She's never looked like she belonged somewhere more.

"Mela's waiting," she says, mouth still pursed in mock irritation. "If you two are done eating everything in sight, I'd like to get a move on with my first day of lessons."

Jinhai laughs and shrugs off Sully's arm only to walk over to Dorjee and loop his arm through hers. Using his free hand, he ruffles her hair and her scowl only deepens. "Yes, because I'm _so_ excited to see you outperform me," he says but begins to follow her towards the training yards anyway. He waves over his shoulder at Sully, a good-bye for the day.

Dorjee makes another face. "Literally, shut up. You learned what I taught you in like ten minutes and then made up your own bending forms. Also, you're the Avatar. So seriously. Shut up."

He laughs and shrugs. "Yeah, but it wasn't really airbending. More like bending air like it was earth. Not nearly as effective. You, though, madame, have the skill. The technique. The _audacity_." He kisses the air. "I could never."

"You're a drama queen," she states. "And I hate you." Dorjee does not take her arm out of his.

**vii. **

"What _is_ this?" he hisses, crossing his arms over his chest and shuffling his feet.

Before him, doors are positioned on a circular, marble platform. Only a few moments ago, Mela had sent them spinning with an airblast from her palms and now they're whirling at a speed that blurs the world around them.

"It's an ancient training exercise we use to teach young children the circular and spiral movements essential to airbending," says Mela, lacing her fingers together. She rests them on her stomach, just below her breasts, and taps her to pointer fingers together in a contemplative gesture. "I taught Kei without them but she'd been bending air since birth and we had neither the time nor resources to train her the way I would've liked. Her technique suffered and as such she was put at a disadvantage when she fought Azulon. If you want to learn, you learn properly and you will use them, Avatar."

Jinhai grumbles low in his throat. Suluk had already spent the better part of the morning barking orders at him as Jinhai stared uselessly at the fountain in the main courtyard. Now, Mela was standing firm on his use of what looked to be a death trap on hinges and screws.

At least there was silence when he trained with Ahote. The Sun Warrior simply nodded his head when he approved and shook it when he didn't like something or corrected his form when it desperately needed it.

Dorjee looks on at the moving doors with wonder. Jinhai is not as easily impressed. It looks like a whole lot of unnecessary bruises and cuts just waiting to happen. True, he'd faced worse in Yao's ring but he has no intention of feeling like he's been beaten within an inch of his life with none of the adrenaline or rush an actual fight provided.

"The goal," Mela continues, "is to make it to the other side of the platform without touching the doors."

A pause–then a sigh of resignation. "Will you at least demonstrate what it's supposed to look like before I get knocked on my ass?" he asks. Jinhai cocks his head and looks at the doors again, as if looking at them sideways will reveal the way he can get through them unscathed. No such luck.

Mela pushes a piece of graying hair out of her face. "Fair enough. Observe."

The airbending master approaches the doors, which had begun to slow, and quickens their pace with another gust of air. Jinhai glances at his friend from the corner of his eye as the master steps into the maze of spinning gates. Dorjee leans forward, perched on the tips of her toes, her focus fixed wholly on her teacher. Her mouth teeters on the edge of a smile.

Jinhai can't help himself. He smiles too.

Mela's robes flutter in and out of sight as she bobs and weaves through the training course. Her arms swirl above and below her, following the flow of the air currents as she twists and turns to adjust to their direction.

When she makes it to the other side, she waits for the doors to slow before she calls out, "Alright. One of you go through now." And then the gates are spinning again.

"You or me?" Jinhai asks.

"I'll go," Dorjee says.

The young girl steps up to the gates and raises her arms in front of her, her palms facing away from her the way she'd seen Mela do. She puts one foot forward, the leather sole sliding against the stone floor. Those violet eyes flare and the wind blows her hair back to reveal her face, which is pinched with emotion. Determination, anger, grief, and relief. She blows out a breath.

Then disappears into the gates.

**viii. **

There's a brief moment of panic, a tightening of her heart, when Dorjee feels a shift in the wind and she's forced to take action. Her feet shift, her shoulders torquing, and with a sharp intake, she dodges the first gate.

Another gate knicks her shoulder and nearly sends her sprawling. Dorjee rights herself, spins, and successfully shifts around a third door.

It feels like she spends a lifetime in the gates but knows only a matter of seconds has passed when she emerges on the other side. Her shoulder twinges where the gate smacked her but the pain is dwarfed by the sense of accomplishment and belonging that blooms in her chest when Mela praises her.

"That was excellent," she says. "I'd have thought you'd grown up around this if I didn't know any better."

Dorjee stutters and her cheeks and chest flush with heat at the master's approval. She looks down at her shoes and rubs the back of her neck. "I don't know. One of the gates hit me. I'm sure Jinhai can do a lot better."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Mela says with a snort. "Look."

And Dorjee does. Jinhai had entered the gates but was having a rough time of it. She can hear his grunts and curses as he's bounced from door to door like a rag doll. She can't help her grin. _I'm better than him, _she thinks and immediately feels guilty.

"There have been others like you that have come to the temple, others who were separated from us after the war or were taken from their families before they could reach us," the teacher says as they watch and wait for Jinhai to finish. "There were some who didn't even know that they were airbenders until much later in life, not unlike Jinhai's own late discovery. And there's one thing that's held true for all of them when I trained them."

"Which is?" she asks quietly and fiddles with her fingers.

"It's true that it's harder to learn bending later in life, no matter the element or disciple. You have to teach the body to move in a way it's never had to. But when my students earned their tattoos, they valued them so much more. They knew what it was like to work for something. And they were always among my most talented students."

The gates spit Jinhai out and he lands hard on his backside.

Dorjee can't help the snort of laughter that escapes her. Jinhai glares at her from over his shoulder, his nose wrinkling.

"I'm glad someone thinks this is funny," he says.

"Again," Mela replies.

Jinhai swears under his breath but gets up regardless and slips back inside the doors when they pick up speed again.

"You truly did a good job. Perhaps when the Avatar is busy with his other studies, I can give you private lessons."

Emotion grows thick in her throat and she swallows in an attempt to wash it away. "I couldn't possibly… I'm sure you've got better things to do with your time."

"Not at all, Dorjee. I'd love to spend time training you and getting to know you. There aren't very many of us and we take care of our own. You're apart of our family now."

**ix.**

"I know that Mela and your father met because of Kei but why do you call her Auntie?"

Sora shrugs but doesn't look up from her hands which are making quick work of weaving rope into a net. Per the airbending master's request, the two of them have looked for ways to occupy their time while everyone else tackles Jinhai's training. Hotaru has taken to sewing again, something she's actually missed doing since leaving Xianghao. She's not sure what Sora has determined an adequate use of her time, aside from perhaps brushing up on her knot tying skills, but she's been at it like a mad woman for several days.

"The way my father tells it, he wasn't in a good spot after Kei died and the war ended. He'd spent some time in one of the Fire Nation's prisons which weren't exactly known for their benevolence and he blamed himself for Kei's death. He'd thought he'd distracted her from the archers and gotten her killed in the Avatar State."

"The Yuyan, right? Jinhai used to have nightmares about them as a kid."

"Yeah, them. Nasty fuckers but you've got to at least admire their skill. The republic had them and the rest of the Fire Nation's military disbanded but I don't think they ever really did, not all the way. Father sometimes talks about bandits here on the continent who've got an aim truer than true north and it's hard to not think of them when they make a shot in tornado condition winds from three quarters of a mile away ." Sora pauses to tie a loose end at the edge of her net, her fingers moving too quickly for Hotaru to follow. "There aren't very many people who understood what it was like to know Kei. Like _really_ know her. Most people think of her as this bloodthirsty-albeit-effective, iron-fisted ruler. That's not how my father remembers her. The few times he's told me about her, he says she was head-strong and stubborn, sure, but she felt things with her whole heart and she cared about people. A lot. Azulon slaughtering her people destroyed her. After the war, he connected with her teachers–Bumi, Himiko, Takashi, and Mela. They all kept in touch and helped each other process the survivor's guilt. It wasn't easy watching an eighteen-year-old girl die like that, die _for_ you.

"My father decided to take up a major role in rebuilding and managing the Fire Nation as a way to make amends for his failure to Kei. By the time I was born, he didn't have much time for me or my mother for that matter. It was around that time that a group of loyalists made a serious attempt to kidnap the living heirs and brainwash them with their ideas of world domination and racism. They failed, of course, but like I said. It took a lot of effort on my father's part to make sure that that first attempt and every attempt after it remained a failure. When my father got worried that our lives were endangered by staying in the Fire Nation, we came here to stay at the air temple where loyalists couldn't hold our lives over my father. Dad helped the Fire Nation. Mama and I helped the Air Nomads rebuild. Mela helped raised me. So I call her Auntie."

Hotaru bites the inside of her cheek. "That sounds hard."

Sora shakes her head but there's no heart behind it. "It wasn't too bad," she says. "He visited when he could but I understood there was a lot more at stake and that it was for my own safety. By the time I was ten, things had settled down enough in the Fire Nation that Mama and I were able to go home if we wanted to. Mama did, but by that time I was old enough to go to the Northern Water Tribe's Naval Academy. So I went there. My time here gave an upper edge among my classmates, who were all extremely talented waterbenders from legendary lines. I even went to school with a guy who claimed Avatar Kuruk was his four-greats uncle. I'm not a bender and it certainly doesn't make me any less than someone who _can_ bend but I certainly have to find ways to keep up with your natural gifts. The acrobatics that a long-term life here requires along with the chi-blocking my father taught me did the trick. When I graduated, Mela came to my graduation. We send each other letters occasionally. She's always hounding me to visit." A cheeky grin. "I suppose I can thank you guys for giving me an excuse to stay away longer in the future."

"It still sounds hard. Raising yourself isn't easy. Especially when you have a face to imagine when you know someone should be there to take care of you." Hotaru rubs her forehead and blows out a sigh. "I didn't always live at the orphanage. I wasn't like Jinhai in the sense that Mama Lu's was all I'd ever known. I had a family before and they gave me up when they realized how much trouble my seizures and bending caused. And they were pretty well-off which makes their reasoning for giving me up a whole lot weaker given they could've easily afford the doctors and the teachers. It's not something I like to talk about, even with Jinhai, because I know how angry he'd get knowing they gave me up over my condition but I just… I don't know. I wanted you to know I understand."

Sora pauses her work on her net and looks up. Her amber eyes simmer, boiling with the intensity of her emotions. Something Hotaru is beginning to understand about the other girl is that her eyes tend to give her away; they're intense, unyielding, a gateway that betrays her even when the rest of her body is as still as stone. They remind her a bit of Jinhai–whose eyes have _always_ stripped away her defenses–and she wonders if its simply a Fire Nation thing.

"Thank you," she says and Hotaru fidgets under the sincere weight of her words. "For sharing. And also accepting me into the group as easily as you have. Trust isn't something one comes by easily these days and I'm glad you've allowed me the chance to earn."

"You're welcome."

Sora grunts and nods her head before going back to her net, which is only a few knots of being completed. A few minutes later, when Hotaru finishes sewing on the sleeve of her shirt, Sora slaps her thighs and stands quickly.

"Come on," she says and doesn't wait before marching out of the quiet little bedroom.

Hotaru arches an eyebrow before standing as well, her sewing tucked under her arm. Despite the heavy net in her arms that nearly blocks her view, Sora walks with purpose and knowledge.

"Where are we going?" she calls out, quicking her pace to a jog to keep up with the other girl.

"Training grounds," she says. "My intel told me you can't bend worth shit. I'm going to teach you a few things so you can defend yourself."

"Jinhai's taught me a few things. I've gotten better. I can bend if I really focus. And Jinhai says I can bend a lot more than most people."

"Most benders have been doing this since before they could walk. They're as attuned to their element as they are their own heartbeat. Even the airbender girl you came here with connects with the air without realizing it and she's got zero training. The seconds it takes you to focus in on the earth are seconds you still need to be able to defend yourself."

Hotaru catches up to Sora before she slows to a brisk walk. That burn has returned to her eyes and Hotaru knows better than to challenge it further.

"So what's the net for then?"

Sora stops walking. She's led them to an airball court, where so many tall totem-poles rise out of the ground like branchless trees.

"In case you fall," she says and grins. "We're doing this in the air, sunshine."

**x.**

Later that night, they all bundle around a fire deep in the temple. They've set aside this time to bond and laugh despite the rigorous demands of their schedules in the temple.

Dorjee, Jinhai, and even Hotaru groan over the budding bruises that training brings. (Sully offers to heal them with his waterbending but only Jinhai takes him up on the offer. The two women seem to take pride in the ache of their muscles and even the tell-tale signs of failure in the color purple, green, and midnight blue.)

Jinhai regalls them with tales of his failures in the spinning gates and Dorjee sits a little straighter when she adds quietly (and proudly) that she's become quite adept at two of the five forms Mela has taught her.

The first time she mentioned her accomplishments she'd been afraid they'd be met with ridicule. That Jinhai, Suluk, _Ahote_, would glare at her and tell her they were nothing in the face of their male prowess.

"Those gates are hell. Stupid. I hate them." Jinhai grumbles and slouches, shoveling an irate spoonful of sticky rice into his mouth. "What did you think of them Dorjee? I haven't seen you there when I go."

She'd stuttered over her words, toyed with her fingers, bit her cheek so hard that she drew blood, and kept her gaze nailed into her lap when she said, "I… I already mastered them. Mela is teaching me other stuff now."

Silence follows her words and she waits. _Spirits_, she waits for the sting of Jinhai's response as he cuts her down. Maybe even the sting of his hand on her cheek.

(She knows, of course, in her heart of hearts that he would never, _could _never, touch her like that. But the fear is there, always hovering over her shoulder. She and Mela have begun talking about it, her time at the Chens. When she told the older woman she's never felt anger like this before, that sometimes she's incapable of leashing her tongue when it bubbles out of her at the strangest of times, she only says that it's normal. To be expected. That she is allowed to be angry. She's also allowed to be sad or happy or scared and she's even allowed to miss them, if only she remembers that what they did to her was never, ever okay. That it was never her fault. Not once. And somehow, though the anger still comes and goes, to be told she is allowed to feel what she wants, to be validated, is enough to subside the angry red creature that lurks under her skin.)

When the tension eases from her body and Dorjee gathers the strength to look up, somehow the first person she looks to is Ahote. The black paint is fresh around his eyes today and it only does favors for the gold color of his eyes. He doesn't smile to reassure her but he does tilt his head, the barest of gestures that she wouldn't have seen if she hadn't been watching, and her chest warms.

The moment is shattered when Jinhai lets out an indignant cry. "I told you! I told you that you'd do great." His chest puffs up and the gesture reminds her so much of Ahn that she tenses all over again. "Ladies and gentlemen, I demand a round of applause for Dorjee. She's earned it. Sweetheart, you're going to look great in blue."

**xi.**

"Where are we going, _sifu_, if you don't mind me asking?" asks Dorjee as she trails several steps behind the older woman.

Mela clicks her tongue and responds without turning her head. Her voice echoes through the hall, mingling with the yowls of the flying lemurs above.

"You'll see," she says and continues on.

The master leads them through a maze of stone hallways and restored marble arches towards the far west side of the mountain side. There are more animals here and the summery smell of hay and the crisp scent of apples becomes impossible to ignore.

When they step through one final great arch, Dorjee is presented with open stalls and small balls of fur.

"Sky bison," she whispers. Her body tightens with excitement. Yangkey's bison was the first bison she'd ever seen and she'd been _so_ excited. The babies, with their stubby horns and big brown eyes, are even better. Dorjee crouches and wiggles her fingers at one stumbling across the floor. Its nostrils flare and slowly it begins to shuffle towards her. Dorjee bites her lip to stop her smile.

"When an airbender turns eight years old, they are paired with a sky bison as their life long companion. The bison chooses its rider, never the other way around, and if their rider dies the bison returns to the wild. Come. There's someone I want you to meet in particular."

Reluctantly, Dorjee leaves the calf behind and trails behind Mela. They pass several large stalls where baby bison are nestled together. Their doors are never closed, though; the babies are free to come and go as they please. Dorjee violently smothers a cry of glee when she sees one of them hover in the air for a moment, its mouth pulled into a happy 'O', before falling back onto its belly, its six legs starfished out.

Finally, they come to a stop at a stall towards the back. None of the children are back here. Only an older bison, nearly fully grown. Its large head is laid on its front set of feet. Dorjee's heart constricts. It looks so… _sad_.

"This is Yeshe," says Mela. The affection in her voice is clear. "She was born several years ago in the spring. Lively girl. She was the first one to fly in her litter. As I told you, the bison always chooses its rider. When the time came for us to introduce the calves to the children, she never formed a bond. We've tried each year since then but she still hasn't taken a liking to anyone."

Dorjee frowns and shuffles forward until she's shoulder-to-shoulder with Mela. "That's so sad."

Mela smiles at her, a small secretive thing that brings out a dimple above one corner of her mouth. "Oh, I don't know. I think she'll eventually choose a companion. She's a special animal. It'll take a special rider to connect with her." She pulls an apple out of her wide-mouthed sleeve and offers it to Dorjee. _How long has that been in there? _"Here. Take this. She's partial to the green ones but I'm afraid La La used the majority of them to make pies last week."

Taking the fruit, she approaches the bison. Yeshe lifts her head and sniffs the air. A low rumble echoes out from her chest and Dorjee pauses for a moment, determining whether it was a threatening growl or simply an acknowledgement. When Mela urges her forward with a few words of encouragement, Dorjee kneels in front of Yeshe and holds out her palm, the apple in her grasp.

Yeshe stretches out her neck. She's still scenting her, still trying to determine what this stranger's scent means.

Quicker than she would've thought capable, Yeshe scoops the treat out of Dorjee's palm with her large pink tongue and devours it in seconds.

Dorjee leans in further, daring to sink her fingers into the white fur that smells like sunshine and rain, and smiles when the bison lets her. Yeshe is so soft and so warm and as she meets the bison's stare, her fingers still running through her outer coat, something _clicks_ inside her.

Yeshe's tongue peaks out again. This time, she licks the side of Dorjee's face, smearing loose hairs upward, and the young girl falls back onto her rear. The bison surges forward. Dorjee can't contain her giggles as the animal stands over her, rubbing her face all over Dorjee's own face and chest and licking her the way a mother cat might groom her child.

"Ye-_she_!" she cries, her voice hitching with laughter. "Calm down, girl!"

Mela chuckles above her and only shrugs when Dorjee looks to her pleadingly. Slowly, the bison calms herself and, when she's finally finished scent-marking the girl, curls herself around Dorjee on the floor.

Dorjee scratches Yeshe behind the ear. Her face hurts. She hasn't smiled this much in a long time.

Swallowing, she looks to Mela. "She's… is she mine now? Right?" Her voice sounds so small. She can't imagine leaving Yeshe behind in the stables, alone.

Mela smiles that same secretive smile. "Mmmm," she says. "A special rider for a special bison."

**xii.**

Yeshe leaves the stalls with Dorjee and doesn't leave her side, not for one minute. It's not uncommon for a rider and their bison to remain so closely attached in the weeks after the bond is made, but under usual circumstances the calves are still fairly small and weave through the temple hallways with ease. Yeshe takes up most of the hallway as she follows closely behind her rider, but not a single word is said against the animal or her rider.

The temple is just happy Yeshe has finally found her other half.

(While there isn't much knowledge on _why_ or _how_ airbenders forge such strong connections with sky bison, the nomads know one thing is for sure: it is not entirely of this world. It is in part forged by a magic that neither science nor spiritually can entirely explain, unbreakable until death and likely even after.)

When Dorjee arrives at dinner late, her cheeks still aching with the strain of her smile, and takes a seat at the table, Jinhai turns to her and raises an eyebrow.

Dorjee shrugs. "Her name is Yeshe. She's mine now," she says and Ahote ducks his head to hide a (real) smile.

**xiii.**

Ahote isn't fond of the library at the air temple. Cut deep in the mountain side, the light provided to search the shelves with comes in the form of glowworms. (And, despite Mela's clear instructions, his own bending, which he keeps tightly reigned in his palm.) In the library, he's removed from the sun and it's an absence he feels with his whole body. But he's needed and he's never been the type of man who put his own needs before the people he cares for.

So the sun can wait. He's got reading to do.

He spends nearly three weeks combing the shelves, studying more bending scrolls than he can remember and hunting for tomes from either the Fire Sages or his own people. The bending scrolls are mostly instructions on combative forms–not surprising given that firebending is typically an offensive discipline and he's looking for a rare healing technique he's admittedly only heard stories about–and the books he's found on the Sages have mostly revolved around their traditional role in training the Avatar or the spiritual epicenters that the temples are built on.

There is only one book about his home, his _people_, and the words paint them a relic of the old world, a time in history that has long since passed. Which, he supposed, was of their own doing and he was glad that Ran and Shaw and the Eternal Fire were their own secret. If Sozin and Azulon had known of their existence twenty years ago, he had the feeling that much like the Foggy Swamp Tribe, they would have truly been wiped from existence. His heart twists in its cage when he looks at a crude illustration of the network of temples he calls home. It's a poor substitute for the real thing, but still renews that bone-deep feeling of longing.

He's so terribly homesick, has been ever since his father died and his uncle forced him into hiding, even if he'll never admit it to anyone but himself.

Ahote ignores the roiling feeling in his gut and runs a hand through his hair, which is cut short on the side and grown long on top. He scowls, irritated with himself. He doesn't have _time_ to linger on feeling _sorry _for himself. The kid–he calls him the kid when they're really only a few months apart in age–needs his help and while he'd started out a major pain in his ass and a means to an end, he's got to admit he's grown on him–_like fucking fungi_.

Somewhere else in the bowels of the cavernous room, he can hear the soft _plunk!_ of books being put back in place. Likely Yangkey. It seems these days Yangkey is the only human being he gets any contact with. He only sees the others at night for dinner and if he's lucky he runs into Suluk and Jinhai when he's done with his morning meditation in the sun and they're finishing up another (unsuccessful) training regimine. On days where Karma is especially kind, he catches Dorjee on her way to collect that horrible animal of hers, Yeshe.

Those interactions were ones he looked forward to and hated with equal measure. Looked forward to because without fail she smiled, radiant like a midday sun, and said, _Good morning, Ahote. _Hated because his tongue always got all tied up and all he could ever say was, _Hello_.

Stupid. That's what he was. Especially knowing what he now knew about her time with Ju Long Chen and his little bastard of a son, Ahn. She needed time to heal. He knew all too well how damaging that kind of thing was to the body, mind and soul. His uncle dethroning him and banishing him from his tribe had been the climax in a long story of humiliation and punishment. It'd taken him years not to flinch at the sight of a raised hand and in part was a large reason why he'd allowed himself to stay in isolation at Makappu.

Ahote was stupid. Stupid for being so damn soft for a girl he barely knew. Stupid for agreeing to teach Jinhai and getting dragged into a mess of cosmic proportions. Stupid for thinking he could be the one who cured Jinhai's severance.

He flipped the page of the book he was studying, his eyesight bleary, and huffed.

"Idiot," he muttered, eyes still scanning the page. "Should've never answered the damn door."

–_parallel to the healing technique used by the Water Tribes, some firebenders are capable of using fire to sense chi paths and interpret spiritual energy–_

Ahote grumbled again. Then paused.

Rereading the paragraph, he scanned the page and flipped the book open to a different chapter, this one focused on healing techniques throughout the elements. There was mention of an airbending technique that used the breath in the body to encourage healing, particularly after a long fast that left the person's body in a nasty state of deterioration. Apparently, there were also ways to correct a broken bone with earthbending. Ahote continued scanning, murmuring the words under his breath.

And there it was, painted in thick black characters that screamed up at him from the page.

**ENERGY READING —** _**the firebender's ability to heal**_

Ahote sat back in his chair and rubbed at the stubble forming on his jaw. There was no doubt in his mind that this was what he'd heard elders speaking of in the tribe when they spoke of a way to use fire to sense spiritual energy.

He read further, studying the diagram to the side, and memorized the instructions that detailed how he was to use his own chi to sense the infliction.

When he was sure he had it right, he snapped the book shut and left the library.

**xiv.**

"Avatar."

Jinhai turns to face the source of the voice. It's Ahote who, in all his brooding glory, has just interrupted his airbending lesson with Mela. They were just beginning to make headway on his form too.

"It's not time to train with you yet," he says and frowns. "The sun hasn't even started setting yet. What are you doing here?"

"I finally found something in the library. If it works, I'll be able to tell you what's wrong with you and then we can discuss how you should train further."

Mela nods her head. "I'm glad you've made progress." She shoots Jinhai a reprimanding glare. He has the decency to look sheepish when she says, "Jinhai has found meditation to be a _weakness_ of his. Whether that's the severance or his own lack of discipline is yet to be determined."

"Where do we need to go?"

Ahote shrugs. "Here is fine. Just laydown. I'm going to use firebending to searching your chi paths."

Jinhai unfurls his legs from his lotus meditation position and lays his back on the cool marble. He fidgets a little, feeling awkward as Ahote kneels beside his person.

"Close your eyes," the Sun Warrior says.

Jinhai makes a face at Mela over Ahote's shoulder. The warrior only scowls.

Chuckling, Jinhai lets his eyelids flutter shut and listens to the world around him. The chirp of birds in the afternoon. The tinkling sound of water as it flows into a nearby pool.

Jinhai feels the fire spreading across his body, but it doesn't burn. Not at all. It's like basking in the sun and falling asleep. He sinks, slowly, into his body and through the floor below him until he's sure that he's neither here nor there.

_They've blocked him. Cut him off. They won't reach him halfway. He needs to find the connection and pull himself across._

Wherever Ahote has taken him, there's only darkness and a single glowing, golden thread. It crackles with energy, sparking with life and something _other_.

Jinhai reaches for it.

His hand wraps around it–

And then he's

falling,

falling,

_fallen_.

**xv.**

Jinhai opens his eyes to a sea of violet and turquoise, a bottomless, fathomless night. His mind is hazy, fuzzy, like he's just woken from the deepest of sleeps.

_Where am I? _he wonders. _Who am I?_

_You are the Avatar._ A woman's voice, loud and strong and clear. You_ must bring balance to the world. Let me show you._

A flash of light.

And he's remembering a time from long, long ago when the winds howled and the he was born again.

* * *

_tbc._


	13. Book Three, Part VII: Earth

**Synopsis:** Aang recieves a vision of the future during the storm in which he freezes himself and is presented with a choice: Envoke the Avatar State and remain frozen for one hundred years or drown and reincarnate so the next Avatar can save what remains of his people post-genocide. The choice is not easy. It takes a full cycle to bring the world back to peace.

**Author's Note:** IT'S WEDNESDAY MY DUDES so buckle tf in we got a wild ride ahead of us

i estimate 3-4 more chapters in book three so shit's about to happen. also, this chapter is like... a little graphic? idk. process a caution. it's not that bad imo but i'll disclaim it here. this chapter is 9k words and with it, we are nigh on the 100k mark so yeehaw!

* * *

**BOOK THREE: EARTH  
****PART VII  
**_AVATAR JINHAI_

_Without death, we'd be at a loss. It's the prospect of death that drives us to greatness._

**i. **

The tundra winds are unforgiving as the first blizzard of the season rolls in from the sea. It's the kind of storm that songs are written about, a pure force of nature that howls and rips at the landscape and buries them deep beneath the snow.

Not even the tribe's strongest benders dare venture into the storm. The wise ones prepared days ago. They stocked driftwood and blubber in their homes and packed the outer-walls with an extra layer of snow.

On the fourth night of this great and terrible storm, a baby girl is born. She is beautiful. Her hair is black like a moonless sky and her eyes shine a pale blue like ice in the sun.

When she cries for the first time, thunder cracks loud above them. Snow from the roof of their igloo shakes loose and peppers their hair and the furs covering the floor. The baby wails and the storm rages. When she is finally soothed to sleep, pressed against her mother's breast, the wind ceases its howl.

Her mother and father name her Aumanil after the sea.

"I hope she's not as much trouble as this storm has been," her father says and presses a kiss to his wife's forehead.

"Oh, she more than likely will be," her mother replies fondly and scratches her finger under the baby's chin. Even after the difficulties of childbirth, she still glows with happiness. "The best of them always are."

She grows up playing alongside the wolf pups her father breeds for sleds. The tribe sometimes thinks that this is where she gets her wildness from; she spends so much time among wolves that she forgets what it is to be a human girl. One summer, she takes an interest in one of her father's runts. There had been runts before it just as there would be many after it, but there is something about this one that refuses to let her go.

She demands her father let her keep this one.

"If I can make it live, he's mine," she says, unbendable, unbreakable.

And because her father cannot say no to his storm child, he allows it. She nurses the wolf through his infancy with the pure strength of her will and names him Tikaani–meaning _warrior wolf _in their native tongue.

She is four when the twins, Sesi and Miki, are born and seven when her sister Kurozuka comes into the world. Being the eldest child is a strange adjustment but one she takes to quickly. She'd vowed to protect Tikaani to her dying breath; she could do the same for the humans of her own flesh and blood.

Luckily, there is no need for her to test her vow of protection in her youth. Their village is prosperous, full of love and life. The Avatar before her birth–an airbender male named Sonam who was wise and stern–reigned over a long era of stability before passing in his sleep some time ago. He'd left them this peace, a world where Aumanil was free to run barefoot in the summer months and play in the snow with her pet wolf in the winter.

Without raiders or pirates to fear, the tribe hunts arctic seals and walrus whales when the ice melts and the days are impossibly long. When the weather harshens, they follow the caribou where they must during the winter. The tribe grows under such peaceful conditions. Children are born and the elders grow old and wrinkled. (Aumanil grows up listening to their stories of what the world was like a long, long time ago. There's mystical stories of dragons and sea serpents, of Avatars smiting down great evils and terrible monsters. Aumanil listens to each story, catches herself opening her mouth to say, _I remember_.) With so many people making the move between camps difficult, there's talk of making a permanent residence on the coast closest to the continent where they can establish trade with the Earth States nearby.

The tribe, as it always does, celebrates when Aumanil discovers she's a waterbender; it's a gift, bestowed from the Moon and the Ocean, a sign that they've gained favor among the spirits. The elders say that the spirits have granted them more waterbenders in the passing years than they have in a long time, yet another sign of their prosperity.

"Tui and La have bestowed you with a great responsibility," the sage says during the celebration. He draws a crescent moon on Aumanil's forehead with crushed ash from the large, burning fire. "May you use your gift to guide the tribe and bring peace and balance wherever you go."

Her parents thank Tui and La for the gift bestowed on their daughter. The women in their lineage have always been known for their blessing, but their mother claims it is a gift that must be earned.

"Long before you were born, our tribe faced a time of great suffering," her mother began. She'd told them this story many times and each time her daughters listened closely, dreaming of the day that they too would be blessed by the spirits. Sesi and Miki are tucked into her mother's side while Aumanil holds Kurozuka in her lap. "There was a war and many of our men left the tribe in order to fight the coming threat. With many of our warriors and hunters gone, our people starved. One of our ancestors prayed to Tui and La for the gift to move oceans so that she might feed her people while the men were gone. The spirits granted her wish but warned her that the daughters of her lineage would only be blessed with the same power if they were pure of heart. The gift could only be used to bring balance and peace. If the gift was not granted, the daughter was said to be of a black heart. There was a chance she would use her gift to bring great harm and destruction to the tribe."

"Grandma couldn't bend, Mama. Was she black of heart? Was she evil?" Miki whispers with wide eyes, squirming the way excited children do.

Their mother laughs. "Only when she was angry. No, daughter. It's just a story. Our family is blessed with a wonderful gift and it is true that we must always use it to help others, but it does not determine the color of your heart. Your grandma was a wonderful woman who did much good for this tribe."

Years pass. Sesi and Miki discover their bending and the tribe celebrates them, too. With three daughters of the legendary line, the elders praise the spirits for the protection provided for them.

Anxiously, they wait for the fourth sister to announce her gift.

Kurozuka never bends.

**ii. **

Jinhai inhales like he's breathing his first breath. When he opens his eyes again, he's back in that endless sea, staring at a reflection of himself. His reflection glows violet and his eyes are closed, like he's still drifting somewhere far, far away. His shadow-self looks so relaxed, so at peace.

_She was our family, _a voice says. _She was good and kind at one point. There was nothing she wouldn't have done for us. And none of us cared that she couldn't bend. It was just a story our mothers told us to keep us obedient._

Jinhai blinks with slow, lazy eyes–_him_, not his reflection–and watches as his shadow-self changes. It starts as a ripple, like a stone cast into water, and before he knows it he's staring at a completely different version of himself.

This version is older and female, built with harsh features and planes that converge like the slopes of a craggy mountain against the sky. _A past life._

"Who are you?" he asks, and his voice echoes as if it is trying to fill the deepest cave.

_My name is Aumanil. I was the Avatar long before you. _

"Why are you showing me this? Why you when… when you've been gone for so long?"

_I allowed my emotions to rule me. I did not fulfill my duty as Avatar the way I was supposed to. If you are to choose a different path, the right path, you must know where she came from. _

"Is your sister the one controlling the dark spirits? Is she responsible for the kidnappings?" Jinhai can't stop the desperate edge from entering his voice.

There's been so much confusion, so much suffering. For once, he just wants to know the answer. He's tired of living on a leap of faith.

Aumanil's form ripples again. Jinhai opens his mouth to protest. _Come back. Please, come back._

He's forced into another memory before he can get the words out.

**iii. **

Aumanil discovers her destiny when she's sixteen years old. Sonam's peace sours and the pirates return. When they try to take her sisters, to rape her mother, to kill her father, she releases a storm upon them so great that it rivals the one that swept their world the night she was born.

Their small fleet of ships sink. The waves build until they swallow the clouds and the ice cracks beneath her, splitting like a beast yawning its jaws open. When the wind picks up, it whistles and worms through the masts and rigging until each ship falls prey to its force and not a single soul remains to tell the tale.

When she emerges from the surge of power, she's in the center of a crater miles away from her camp. She's not sure how she got there. She's not sure what she's done. She just knows that there's a headache splitting behind her eyes and blood drips from her nose. There's a bald man with blue tattoos sitting in front of her sitting cross-legged as she blinks her way into awareness. His beard is long and gray and his robes are orange. He says, _You're the Avatar now. You've got a destiny to honor._

She wants him to stay longer. She needs someone to tell her what she is, what she's to do. _I've always just been a girl from the village. Nothing more. Nothing less. _But the words taste like a lie even as she says them. She even reaches for him, stretches her fingers out wide so she can wrap her hand around the thin bones of his tattooed wrist. But he's gone–smoke in the air–before she can lay a finger on him.

Aumanil stumbles back to the village, a heap of blooming bruises. Her overclothes are torn, the parka reduced to shreds. She should be cold, but she's not. Her breath of fire keeps her warm and steam rises from her back like she's a phoenix rising from the ashes.

Her youngest sister greets her first when finally makes it to the outskirts of the camp. Kurozuka clings to her waist and frets over the cuts on her eldest sister's face. The young Avatar can't feel the wounds. Shock has made everything hazy. Tikaani follows after Kurozuka closely. He licks her wounds, whimpering as he wraps his fluffy tail around her shaking body. He bares his teeth at anyone else who gets too close.

Sesi and Miki hide behind their father's back. Her father, who'd always been the strongest, bravest man in her life, swallows hard when he looks at his eldest daughter. Mama is nowhere to be found. Her father looks at her, severe and pained, before reluctantly raising his arm. A silent invitation. A silent warning.

They never find out if it was the pirates or the Avatar State that killed her mother and it does no one good to speculate. They try their best to go back to normal–but what is that when you know you have the ability to create and crush nations, to bring the mightiest to their knees?

It's in the quiet dinners, the way the village now avoids her when she'd once been its center, how her father continues to teach Sesi and Miki how to waterbend but excludes his eldest. Not that she needs to be trained. She'd long since surpassed her father's skillset, but inclusion would have been nice. Nowadays, Tikaani is her only companion. She spends most of her time running her fingers through his soft fur, patterned in a way that makes him look like he's constantly just gone through a romp in the mud.

The village is scared of her. Her father and her sisters are terrified.

Aumanil doesn't blame them. They have good reason to be. Since her first brush with the Avatar State, she's been temperamental. The wind is always chasing her heels and even the slightest words cause her eyes to flicker like a lamp on a dark night.

Only Kurozuka treats her the same. It's her youngest sister who grips her hand and fills her with warmth and reminds her that she's not invisible. That she's more than this uncontrollable power that threatens to swallow her whole. They support each other in their loneliness. Since Kurozuka never learned to bend, the tribe whispers of her black heart like the stories warn. They don't know her sister like Aumanil does. They don't know her kindness.

Aumanil thinks it's probably for the best when she leaves the tribe in search for an earth bending teacher. It was bound to happen sooner or later. While the sages and priests hadn't yet found her, they eventually would and they'd cause such a big fuss. Sonam's peace was failing all over the world if the travelers are to believed. Pirates are the smallest of concerns in comparison to the unrest rising on the continent. The world needs her. And she needs to learn control. She needs more than the icy tundra which only encourages her wildness.

Kurozuka begs her to stay, pleads her not to leave her behind. Since mother's death, her father had taken a particular shining to the twins. She and Kurozuka have become ghosts in his world, shadows that dance at the edge. Kurozuka is afraid of being forgotten, afraid that there will be no one left to love her. Aumanil knows this and she wishes there was more she could do to reassure her sister that she was good and wonderful, not the monster superstition says she is.

"Take me with you, Nilly, _Please_."

Sonam shakes his head from behind Kurozuka's shoulder. She's spoken with the airbender once or twice in her dreams. He says she needs to go alone. He says that the Avatar needs to know how to be alone because there will never be someone alive who understands what it is like to hold starfire in their veins. Aumanil clenches her jaw, blinks away the snow that catches in her eyelashes as she stands at the shore. Even now, she can feel the glow of the Avatar State in her eyes, begging her to release it.

"I can't," she says and pulls her coat tighter around her. Tikaani's brushes against her leg. He's always been so good about comforting her. "I'm dangerous. I can't control myself. You're safer here."

In the end, she leaves her sister on the shore and the Avatar State bursts from her when she's in the middle of the ocean, the sea bowing to her emotions as easily as the heated bones of a walrus whale.

**iv. **

She learns to earthbend from a man who lives in Ba Sing Se. When she sees its walls for the first time, a vision crosses her mind. A man rips the borders into existence, blood dripping from his nose, eyes burning brighter than the sun. An army in oceanic blue approaches steadfast. _Waterbenders._ They cannot pass the walls. Not then. Not now. Not ever.

Ba Sing Se remained unconquered for a thousand years after the walls were created. Aumanil suspects it'll remain that way until the end of days. (Of course, she cannot know that in nine hundred years a child princess from the Fire Islands will make quick work of the impenetrable city.)

Two years pass before she masters the element of earth. Its strong, grounded nature does wonders to leash the power she struggled to control in her youth.

When she moves westward the Fire Islands, she takes with her only the clothes on her back and a small bracelet given to her by her earthbending _sifu_. It's laced together with sinew thread and carries the weight of whale teeth, volcanic rock, wooden bamboo beads, and shiny green crystals, a piece for each element and nation.

_A reminder, _he says, _of who you belong to. _

She spends another two years with the Fire Sages learning the art of fire. Tikaani seems to prefer the Fire Islands to the South Pole or Ba Sing Se. Here, he is spoiled. They feed him more raw meat than he can stomach and bathe him in milk and rose oils. He's too spoiled for his own good but if she's honest she'll admit that she too rather likes life on the islands. In the poles, she was feared for her power and in Ba Sing Se she was an animal on display; in the Fire Island, she is respected and loved.

But eventually, the time comes when she has to leave. When fire bows to her will as easily as she might push a hot knife through butter, she makes plans to conquer the final element somewhere high in the eastern mountains.

Aumanil visits home before she makes the journey to the Eastern Air Temple. For all she's enjoyed Ba Sing Se's grandeur and the Fire Islands' exoticism and worship, she still finds herself missing life at home–and Old Man Koda's seal jerky. Home is still home. She deserves a break. Years of hard work warrants a vacation. She sends word ahead via a hawk and smiles when her sisters reply that they are eagerly awaiting her arrival.

When she reaches the poles, she discovers that her father died several months prior during the winter. Aumanil is saddened by the news but she knows that he'd struggled without their mother. She prays he is much happier with her in the spirit lights.

Even if she'd wanted to, she isn't given much time to dwell on her father's passing. Sesi and Miki are women now, both eighteen suns old, and Sesi pregnant with her second child. Aumanil is to be an aunt and the thought warms her like no fire ever could.

In her absence, Sesi has grown into a talented healer and married a boy from the tribe that Aumanil remembers well. He and her sister make a lovely couple, and it comforts her to know that her sisters have someone to look after them while she's gone. Miki is a warrior, one of the strongest in the tribe; she wears her scars and waterskins with pride.

Kurozuka has become something _other_. She's not the shadow she feared she'd become. This should reassure her, but it doesn't. She's radiant. Her skin, dark and lovely, catches the bright sun and her eyes, the color of the midnight sky, take all and give nothing. There's a hard, crystal-like quality to her. She's still young, still a child, but undeniably something lurks beneath her calm surface.

"Sister," Aumanil says, smiling, and opens her arms wide. She ignores the unease. _This is the girl who stayed by your side, who loved you, who protected you._

Kurozuka returns the grin and her teeth glint. She meets Aumanil's hug just as fiercely and when she pulls back, she grips the Avatar's biceps and squeezes tightly.

"You've gotten stronger. Not such a skinny little eel now, Nilly." Kurozuka laughs. "You just might be able to overpower Sesi's husband."

The Avatar snorts. "I could say the same for you. I just mastered two elements. What's your excuse, pidgeon?"

Kurozuka smiles, a sly tip of the corner of her mouth, and loops her arm through her sister's. "A lady never tells her secrets."

**v. **

Aumanil spends two weeks with her sisters laughing and eating and showing off her bending just like she did when she was a little girl before she continues east. She even takes Tikaani hunting on the tundra so they can remember what it's like to feel the snow and wind and the thrill of it all. It's not nearly enough time but an army of usurpers grows on the main continent that she needs to prepare for. A half-trained Avatar won't be nearly enough to stop the hordes of earthbenders who wish to decimate the continent.

When she reaches the Eastern Air Temple, her teacher does not begin with basic forms and breathing exercises like her earth and fire masters. The old woman wakes her at dawn so she can scrub the hall floors clean and then sends her to the kitchen to make dinner for the other nuns. She spends months completing mundane tasks, watching children train the winds from a distance.

_We'll work the arrogance out of you. One way or another, girl._

The women of the eastern air temple aren't the gentle spring breezes she expected; they're howling winds through the mountain tops, the heavy blows of a hurricane. When she trained in the Fire Islands, the people had treated her like a living god, a miracle among men. It was luxury and privilege and unlike anything she'd ever experienced, and she'd be the first to admit that some of it went to her head. _She_ is the Avatar. The World Spirit. Irreplaceable.

But here, her life is no more valuable than an insect's life. At first, the treatment turns her mouth bitter. _All life is sacred, _her master tells her. _Even the tiniest spider-fly caught in its own web. You serve the world, Avatar. Not the other way around. _If earth had taught her control over the Avatar State, then air taught her grace and humility. Her most valuable lesson. The hardest to learn. The arrogance she'd always carried with her is stripped away and replaced with something more sustainable.

She's not sure when she passes the unspoken test. But eventually, she does and she finds herself positioned in front of a freshly-carved set of spinning wooden doors.

It takes her longer to master air. She's free-spirited and wild in nature but admittedly too headstrong to master the easy ebb and flow of airbending. She's a grown woman by the time she claims the title _master of all four elements_. But, like the others, it too falls prey to her will.

Aumanil leaves the temple three years after she first arrived with fewer belongings than she arrived with. She hugs her master tightly–the woman's tattoos are so old and faded that they are more gray than they are blue now–and kisses her on the cheek.

Her master grumbles, shoos her off into a dying sunset, but smiles when the young waterbender turns to wave one last time before she leaves the mountain a storm of wind and fire.

**vi.**

The Avatar heads straight to the continent where a war rages. Three years ago, it was only starving farmers and prideful young men eager to prove themselves. They gathered in taverns to drink too much whiskey and dreamed of revolution.

Now, it is a full-fledged war. It's the scent of blood and bone, fresh earth and rotting flesh. Violent screams as rebellion rages against city states. So many have already died by the time she reaches them. She heals what she can as she goes but it seems like she's always a moment too late, a single step behind.

_This is why the walls of Ba Sing Se were made, _she thinks. _This is why one lifetime will never be enough._

**vii.**

She makes quick work of the rebellion.

The armies do not recognize when she strides into their camps with a great, snarling wolf at her side. Aumanil has spent the last seven years in training, sequestered from the world's watchful eye. They sneer and spit at her foriegn brown skin, threaten to crush her under the weight of a mountain. But when she fixes them with a gaze of blistering ice and they see the power that burns there, they scurry like rats. They are not familiar with this Avatar or her ways and, most worrisome, she is a woman.

(Historians will say, "If one simply looks the our past, female Avatars have proven themselves far more violent and unforgiving than their male counterparts. How can we trust them to keep peace and balance when they're clearly too emotional to make unbiased decisions?" It's a common critique voiced by the males who study the long and complicated history of the world's Avatars. Few ask the right question–is it that she is truly unsuited for the job? Or is it that she is forced to violence because man simply refuses to bow in her presence–because in this one lifetime of a thousand and one lifetimes she wears the face of a woman? Yangchen makes quick work of this common misconception hundreds of years later but the misguided fear will last through Aumanil's lifetime and through her next female reincarnation born into the Fire Nation.)

Is she cunning and cruel like Avatar Tora who would have killed them all if only to dust her hands and say the fight was over? Is she like Avatar Atsuo who would've given up his own life–and had done so in the end–stop any further bloodshed? Or is she like Jing-sheng whose power was so immense, even for an Avatar, and his mere presence was enough to stop war?

She is none of them.

Outside the walls of a governor's palace, she orders the insurgents to lower their weapons and cease their bending. There are, of course, those who curl their lips when she, a woman and an outsider, gives the order. She ends their insubordination with several swift movements of her arms. The river nearby gives her more than enough water to freeze the dissenters in their tracks. Tikaani bares his teeth to quell the remaining thoughts of rebellion.

With the revolutionaires stopped, she marches into the palace. Her armor, which is fashioned to resemble the summer clothes she wore at the South Pole, flows around her as she searches for the governor. With her wolf at her side and her waterskins strapped to her hips, no one dares to stop her.

The estate's staff flee when they see the young Avatar. Aumanil can't help but notice how the gilded, golden walls contract with the bruises on the servants arms and the sharp quality of their cheeks and collars.

"You must be the new Avatar!" the governor croons from his throne. He is a fat man with red cheeks and robes of violet silk. "Are you here so that I might thank you for stopping the peasants beyond my walls?"

Aumanil laces her hands behind her back and pulls back her shoulders. "No," she says.

The smile on the governor's face falters.

"I am here to tell you that you are removed from your position. You are to leave the estate with your family by first light tomorrow," she says slowly. "If you leave by morning, I will personally escort you to safety. "

The governor's smile is gone now. Not even a whisper remains. Rage, pure and unadulterated, smears across his mouth and brow. "How dare you?" he hisses. The hair on Tikaani's hackles bristles and he growls lowly. "You may be the Avatar but you are new. Inexperienced. _You are a woman._ You do not have the authority–"

"Leave by first light," she repeats and fixes that icy gaze on him, "or I will turn you over to the rebels outside. I will not stop them from breaching your walls again. I will let them do what they will with you and your wife."

**viii.**

The governor and his wife leave two hours before dawn. They take with them enough gold to begin a comfortable life elsewhere. Aumanil declares the general of the ragtag army outside the walls the new governor.

"If I ever return and see that you have begun to sit by and watch idly while your people suffer," she warns and she remembers the blisters on her hands as she scrubbed the floors of the Eastern Air Temple, "I will not be as kind as I was to your predecessor. Remember where you came from. Remember who put you there."

**ix. **

Aumanil continues her path through the southern half of the continent, dethroning governors whose pockets remain heavy while their people starve. She disbands rebel groups who have gathered only because they miss the rush of battle and not because there is cause for revolution. Seven years of training has not prepared her for the horrors of battle.

Her airbending master was correct. _We'll work the arrogance out of you, girl._ When she finishes her campaign across the continent eight months after she removed the first governor from his throne, she no longer sees the world through rose-colored glasses. Her posture is heavy with the weight of her choices and the war crimes she was unable to stop, unable to cure.

She is weary and tired. Battle has worn her down in more than one way and she needs time to remember that the world is not always made of blood and bone.

Aumanil shuts her eyes and rolls onto her side, curled into herself in the space of her cramped, cold cot. There is no fire to keep her warm, only the thick fur of her coat and the firm body of a man she met on the road. Tikaani is curled up somewhere in the corner of her tent and she can feel the weight of his stare on her and a tear leaks from the corner of her closed eyes.

As she drifts off to sleep, she dreams of home. Of salt and sea and wind. Of her sisters and her nieces and nephews who are now old enough to walk and talk. Of the sled wolves her father raised when she was a girl and their wet noses pressed into her cheek. She misses the months she spent running through the camp covered in mud and grass stains with Tikanni howling as he chased her heels. She misses the way her mother's ice cream tasted when it melted in her mouth and the sound of her mother's laugh when Aumanil smeared it across her cheek. She misses her girlhood. She misses _so much._

When the civil war on the continent is over and the people can begin the long process of rebuilding without her help, the Avatar finally allows herself to return home.

She knows that she can't stay there forever. She has a long lifetime of peace-keeping to look forward to as a fully-realized Avatar. But for now, she can allow herself a break. A moment to sit back and glue pieces of herself back together now that the war is over.

Her ship rocks to a stop at the South Pole's shore, warm sun shining on her back. It's summertime. Aumanil smiles when she breathes in deep and tastes the ocean deep in her lungs.

The sound of her boots clicking against the dock melts against the sound of creaking old wooden boards and the soft whirr of the waves reaching shore as she finally reaches land. The grass is sparse and muddy, still trying to grow as it emerges from spring.

Her sisters are not there to greet her. She had sent word ahead with a messenger hawk that she would be arriving soon and had received no response. Perhaps they were busy. They are mothers now, leaders and warriors of their tribe. Perhaps they hadn't seen her boat on the horizon.

Aumanil makes the walk into camp. Even though years have passed, the location for their summer camp has remained the same. (After she destroyed the makings of a permanent camp when the pirates first attacked, the elders agreed to continue moving between their winter and summer locations.)

It's unusually quiet. The tribe likes to spend as much time outside in the warmer months. She herself remembers how terribly restless she was as a girl after spending the winter cooped up in their igloo. She and Tikaani had hated it and sometimes they snuck out while her family slept if only to stretch their legs for a moment; when the ice thawed, there was no stopping them. Her younger years were spent playing in the mud and when she learned to waterbend, she practiced in the frigid waters while Tikaani splashed around the shore. The summer camp was always so full of life. People smoke fish and this was the time of year her father used to breed his wolves. She knows Miki took over the practice and yet there are no pups, not a single whine or yip. The Avatar frowns.

Months at war have taught her well enough to know–something is very, _very_ wrong here.

**x. **

Aumanil pauses at the threshold of camp. Smoke rises from the tips of tents, so she knows that the camp isn't abandoned. Tikaani bumps his nose against the back of her hand and she absently runs her fingers through the fur on his head.

There are no children, no pups, no laughter. None of the things that mark the Southern Water Tribe.

She presses forward. Tikanni follows at her side.

The camp is made differently every year but the important things stay the same. The chief's tent is somewhere near the middle. She'll likely find the large fire pit on the eastern border of the camp where the tribe gathers at night to share a meal and tell stories. Her family always preferred setting up in the northwest corner; she hopes that has stayed the same.

She spots the worn shape of her family's tent exactly where she hoped it would be. A banner dyed indigo with berries hangs over the entrance. Aumanil remembers when her father made it. She had sat next to him as he mashed berries and flowers and stretched and smoothed the leather.

Her fingers wrap around the edge of the flap. Aumanil swallows. _Something is wrong something is wrong something is wrong._

Stepping inside the tent is like stepping inside her childhood again. It's warm and inviting, filled with the smell of meat cooking over a fire and freshly ground herbs. Pelts cover the floor and she sees that a table–a _real_ table made of _real_ wood–sits in the corner. A bow sits on its surface.

"Hello?" the Avatar says.

A head of familiar dark hair pokes around a canvas wall. _Since when did this tent have two rooms?_

"Nilly? Is that you? Spirits! When did you get back?"

Aumanil smiles and spreads her arms wide as her youngest sister, now a young woman, barrels into her arms. A metallic smell hangs heavy in the air around her and when Aumanil buries her nose into her hair, she can taste it on her tongue.

"You've gotten so big."

Kurozuka snorts. "It _has_ been four years. I'm not a little girl anymore."

And she certainly isn't.

When Aumanil last saw her sister, her chest was flat and hips were narrow and fat still clung to the tops of her cheeks. Since then, she'd filled out the way every young girl prayed she would and her face had lost its child-like qualities. Her structure is sharp but not in a manner that suggests she hasn't been eating enough; she is simply striking,like the tip of a razor-sharp glacier glittering in the sun. Her full mouth is a deep shade of red that brings out the lighter shades of blue in her midnight eyes and her hair is long and thick and falls over her shoulder in a tightly woven braid. There's a certain quality she can't put her finger on that makes Kurozuka's beauty almost unnatural. _Almost. _Aumanil tries not to stare and suffocates the voice in her head that is still singing, _something is wrong something is wrong._

Aumanil pulls her sister in for one more squeeze. "No, you're not."

Kurozuka sucks in a breath and her lips pull up in a closed-mouth smile. "Why don't you sit down? I'll get you something to eat. You must be starving after your journey."

Her sister leaves, disappearing back into the second room. Aumanil takes a seat at the table, taking off her overcoat before sitting down. Tikaani sits at her feet but a low rumble continues in his chest and his eyes are trained

"Shhhh," she murmurs and scratches behind his ear. "What are you so worked up over?"

Tikaani growls louder when Kurozuka emerges again with two wooden plates piled high with spit-roasted meats and greens.

Aumanil's stomach rumbles and Kurozuka smiles when she sets the plate in front of her and slides into the chair across from her.

The Avatar picks up a fork and moves to stab into the meat when Tikaani bumps his head into her leg, hard, and snaps his teeth. She clicks her tongue and looks to her sister apologetically.

"I'm sorry. I don't know why he's acting like this. Are you hungry? I just fed you." Aumanil tears off a piece of meat with her hands and offers it to Tikaani. He sniffs it before jerking his head to the side refusing it, his upper lip curled. He fixes his blue eyes on Kurozuka.

Her sister makes a small humming in the back of her throat before she smiles softly at the wolf. "Well, he always was a stubborn animal. Perhaps he misses the continent."

Aumanil nods her head in agreement before spearing a piece of fish of the plate. She recognizes the whiter color of halibut and the grayer, gamey hue of caribou but there's a third meat she doesn't recall eating as a girl. It's redder, softer. It'd been what she'd offered to Tikanni.

There's a moment of silence as the two sisters realize that they are more strangers now than anything else.

"So," Kurozuka begins, clearing her throat, "how was the continent? We heard about the war. I'm glad to see your safe, sister."

Aumanil sets down her fork. Despite her hunger, the nausea rolling through her as that worried song still sings through her makes it hard to eat. Thoughts of the continent make it impossible.

"It was difficult. No amount of training can truly prepare you for the moment you see a man's insides on the outside."

Her sister shakes her head and laces her fingers in her lap as she trains her hawk-like gaze on the Avatar. "No, it doesn't. But I suppose you've got a lifetime to get used to it. Do you know what you'll do next?" The unspoken question is there: _how long will you stay here?_

"I planned on spending some time at home. I still need to master the Avatar State completely but I can do that from here. I don't plan on returning to the mainland until they need me. Most of the world is not… kind to a female Avatar."

"Well, they're a stupid lot. I kept tabs on you and from what my sources tell me you've done an excellent job of it. They're calling you the Storm Bird. And if you listen to all of the stories, they've made poor Tikaani out to be a monstrous beast."

Aumanil chuckles and conjures an image of Tikaani rolling on his back, his pink tongue lolling out of his mouth. She reaches down again to stroke his fur. Her wolf huffs. He's still staring at Kurozuka, the tip of his black nose twitching.

Another beat of silence.

"Where are Sesi and Miki? I sent a messenger hawk ahead but I never heard back."

Kurozuka shrugs and tosses her braid over her shoulder. "Oh, you know how busy they can get. Sesi had her fourth child earlier this winter. A boy. They named him after father."

"And Miki?"

"Likely off training the little rugrats. Sesi has been blessed with a whole consort of bender children." The words roll off her tongue venomously. It seems that even after all of these years bending is still a sore spot for her sister. "But they're lovely children. I enjoyed them."

Aumanil breathes in and her anxiety begins to burn like a poison in her blood. It's not something she can ignore for much longer. She doesn't know where it's come from. She looks up and searches Kurozuka, _really_ looks at her. The blackness of her eyes. The redness of her lips. The hard set to her jaw and the unnatural point to her teeth. Aumanil looks to Tikanni then to the food on her plate. Her stomach rolls.

"Kurozuka…" she says slowly. "What have you done?"

That red mouth of her splits into a terrifying grin. "_Sister_, I thought you'd never ask." Kurozuka clicks her sharp nails against the wooden table. "The spirits provided me with a way to bend. Stronger than _anything_ our sisters or mother were ever capable of."

"_Kurozuka_." The Avatar hisses her sisters name this time. All she can think of is her unanswered letters, the empty camp, the way she talks about her sisters and their children as if they're only memories.

Her sister is unfazed. She reaches down to her own plate and picks up a piece of that strange red meat. She puts it in her mouth, closes her eyes, moans quietly as she chews and swallows.

"Do you know how sick Sesi got when she was pregnant with her first child? Of course you don't. From what you told us, I believe you were still in Ba Sing Se, training where they adored you. We tried to send word but you hadn't told anyone where you were going to train. She was so very, very sick. It was like the baby was a parasite. The healers tried to help her but it seemed like no matter what they did Sesi just got sicker and sicker. We both know Miki was a fighter, not a healer, and father was useless after mother died. And you–you were nowhere to be found. It was up to me to figure out how to save our sister's life.

"I prayed to the spirits. I thought of those stories mother told us, of our ancestors who prayed to Tui and La for a blessing so that she might save her people. I prayed and I prayed and no one answered. It wasn't until I made a journey to the forest at the center of the South Pole where the spirit portal is that I was answered. But it wasn't Tui or La that answered me. No, it was a spirit named Vatuu."

Aumanil's heart pounded. She'd never heard that name before and yet she felt as if she'd just been covered in ice. A voice whispers to her, a feather-light tickle at the edge of her consciousness.

_If you and Vaatu have the same fight every ten thousand years, how come one of you hasn't destroyed the other?_

_He cannot destroy light anymore than I can destroy darkness. One cannot exist without the other._

Aumanil tightens her fist, reaching for the earth around her, she allows the fire to gather in her core. _Where are my sisters? _she wonders desperately. _Where is my family?_

"He told me that there was a way I could gain the ability to waterbend. It wouldn't just be like the ability born benders are given. No, it was stronger, so much stronger. With it, I could heal Sesi. I could ensure that both she and her unborn child lived. I asked him what I had to do. Sesi was so ill. She had days left, hours. We were out of options and I was unwilling to let my sister die, even if she could be so spoiled and cruel at times. He said I only had to bring our father to him. If I brought him Father, he'd tell me how to save Sesi. So I did.

"Vatuu told me that for all things in this world, there is a give and take. I could not gain the ability to bend without taking it from another. He told me I could save our sister if only I took the ability to bend from our father."

"Kurozuka, _what did you do to him?_ Please tell me you didn't kill him. Tell me you didn't kill our father," she begs, her eyes burning. Their father had his flaws, had been absent after their mother died, but… to kill him? At the value of a dark spirit's words?

Her younger hissed and bared her teeth. "You were gone and Sesi was dying. _I did what I had to._ And it worked. Vatuu told me how to take Father's bending and I used it to save Sesi's life. I healed her in secret. Both she and her baby lived. And suddenly I wasn't just this weak little thing they were forced to look out for. I was _powerful_."

"You killed our father for that power!"

"He was wasting away! And with that power I saved lives! You weren't here. No one was coming." Kurozuka thrust a finger out and her mouth pinched in rage. "I did what I had to."

"_Where are Sesi and Miki? Where are they now?"_ she bellows, slamming her hand on the table, her voice deepening as her past lives begin to channel their energy through her body.

"They're _gone_, sister. I liked the power that consuming another's chi gave me. So I did it again. _And again._ I killed my own tribesmen and I ate their livers and I don't regret it one bit sister. Miki found out what I was doing. She was just as full as her justful rage as you. I killed her and I ate her liver and _spirits_ there was nothing more divine. Sesi fled. I imagine she's living somewhere on the continent with that whelp of a husband and her children."

Aumanil looks back at the unfamiliar pink meat on her plate and feels the bile rise in her throat. She shoves it away from her and clenches her hands and grief and rage rolls through her. _Miki_. Beautiful, wonderful, proud Miki. Dead. _She's dead_.

"Kurozuka," she whispers. "What have you _done_ to yourself? The tribe–they're hiding from _you,_ aren't they?"

"I did what I had to. And I don't regret it."

**xi. **

Jinhai feels himself being pulled back into that in-between place. This time, he is more aware of his surroundings and his attention immediately goes to the female before him. He recognizes her from the memories. Aumanil. Before, she'd been a strange face with a strange voice; now he feels like he's reconnected with apart of himself. Maybe he has.

"What–what was that? She was eating their livers?" Though he has no physical form here, he knows he'd be fighting the urge to vomit if he were in his body. The smell of charred meat still lingers in his mind like a phantom menace.

_My sister discovered a way to absorb a bender's chi. Whatever it is that grants us access to the elements, she managed to harness it and devour it per Vatuu's instructions. By consuming another's flesh, she was granted the ability to bend for a short period of time but she always burned through it because it was never hers to keep. And the bending she unlocked was powerful. So powerful that I was unable to completely defeat her that day._

"Kurozuka… so she killed your sister? Miki? And your father?"

_Yes. He was her first victim and she was able to keep his death a secret. How I never came to realize what was happening during my short visit… I do not know. It was through him that she was able to practice the ancient and dark methods she discovered. I failed my sister._

"You said she was too powerful to defeat completely but you managed to stop her, didn't you?"

_I did. Along with the knowledge he gave her to absorb another chi, Vatuu told her that there were ways she could preserve her soul even when her body was destroyed. When I fought my sister, I knew there was no sparing her. She was too far gone. I would be forced to take her life. And Kurozuka knew that too. She knew I would end her and she knew I'd fully come into my abilities as an Avatar._

Aumanil's reflection flickered and small flecks of light danced around her. She was wearing the clothes she wore when she quelled the civil war except now a crown of sorts was perched on her head. A circular pendant sat on the peak of her hairline while two chains of pearls looped around her head to keep it in place. Whatever it was, the artifact was something she'd gained after Kurozuka.

_She vowed she'd return and she would end the Avatar Cycle. Not for the power but because she knew that as long as the Avatar lived, my soul would live on. Before I could take my sister's life, she meditated into the Spirit World. I was young and stupid and, most importantly, I was relieved that the responsibility of her death had been taken from me. I was already grieving the death of one sister. I thought that she wouldn't be able to cause any damage from across the veil, that though her spirit still lived on there was no way she could cause any real harm. And for a long time, she couldn't. The veil between the spiritual and physical world was strong._

"What allowed her through? What changed?"

_The Air Nomad Genocide, _Aumanil said. _And Fire Lord Azulon's death. The genocide severely damaged the wall between our worlds. It caused a massive imbalance and it was then that Kurozuka started looking for a way out. When Kei killed Azulon in such a state of rage and vengeance, when she performed an act that defied the very nature of Raava, our Avatar spirit, she was able to create a hole in the boundary that separates the physical and spiritual worlds. But spending so much time without a body made her weak and she needed a strong host in order to permanently return to our world. She began by sending spirits under her control. They kidnapped children and families, brought them to her, and she absorbed their chi in order to regain her strength. _

"That's what was taking all of the kids? Hotaru and I always heard stories… but we didn't think much of it. What is she planning now? What does she want? How can we stop her?"

_That is something I do not entirely know, young Avatar. I am limited in my abilities in the Spirit World, but there are whispers. She is desperate to leave the Spirit World, Jinhai, and she wishes to use the Avatar's body as a means to cross the veil. _

Jinhai recoils. He thinks of the woman he'd seen in Aumanil's memories and the violation of being removed from his own body. What would she do with his hands? Who would she hurt?

_She's always searching. My sister is a persistent woman and she's grown strong as she's consumed the souls she brought to the Spirit World. Kei thought it would be best if we distanced ourselves from you, especially since you've had so little training. Our link to you makes you easy to find. _

Jinhai begins to ask another question–he has so many and finally it feels like he's getting the answers he's so desperately wanted since his role as Avatar was thrust upon him–when Aumanil's reflection shimmers once quickly. Then she's replaced by another face, this one far more familiar.

_You need to leave. Now, _she snarls and Jinhai's mouth goes dry. That pointy face and white paint. It's _her_. The Liberator. The Conqueror. _Kei_. She's so young and so small. She looks like she should be giggling over school boys and sweet cakes.

_She's coming. You need to leave. Go back. Now._ Wide, watery green eyes and a pursed mouth–she looks terrified. The woman who had single-handedly torn apart the bending prisons and bent Fire Lord Azulon's blood with only her rage to strengthen her.

Jinhai closes his eyes and searches for the link back to his body like he's told. Kei's fear is a driving force that tickles the back of his neck. When he finds the link, it's a glowing thread in an ocean of black. He reaches for it, feels his fingers wrap around its warmth–

The prick at his neck turns into a firm, heavy grip and he's ripped back suddenly before he can even think to fight back. The glowing thread disappears and slips through his grasp like hot sand. Panic claws at his throat and _he can feel her._ Now he knows what Aumanil had meant about her presence. He can feel the evil and darkness in her soul as it wraps around his own mind, the corruption of Vatuu's touch.

Jinhai opens his eyes. Kei still stands before him, though she's farther away now. Her mouth is moving. She's offering her hand. Jinhai reaches for it. _If only he can_–

Kurozuka's grip on his neck tightens. Then, she drags him into the darkness.

Kei vanishes.

The witch hisses in his ear, _I've been waiting a long time for you, Avatar._

* * *

_tbc._


	14. Book Three, Part VIII: Earth

**Synopsis:** Aang recieves a vision of the future during the storm in which he freezes himself and is presented with a choice: Envoke the Avatar State and remain frozen for one hundred years or drown and reincarnate so the next Avatar can save what remains of his people post-genocide. The choice is not easy. It takes a full cycle to bring the world back to peace.

**Author's Note:** hello! i hope everyone is doing well and staying safe and healthy with the global pandemic going on. life for me has been kinda hectic, hence my absence for a few months. my schedule is finally starting to hammer out into something consistent, so i'm trying to find more time to write, for this project and other on-going works i have. i thank you for your patience. also, fyi, this fic is cross-posted on ao3 and i've actually edited it over there and added a few new scenes to previous chapters. it's nothing major, just things for consistency and character build, but if ur a big fan or something and really want to read those added scenes, it's at my username "witchless" on ao3.

shit really happens in this chapter and i'm not even sorry. enjoy the ride.

* * *

**BOOK THREE: EARTH  
****PART VIII  
**_AVATAR JINHAI_

_You don't get to die and be reborn the same. You come back, but you come back wrong. This is the price you pay for resurrection._

**I.**

Ahote isn't sure how long he spends kneeling over the Avatar's body, using his fire to keep him firmly placed in limbo. It feels like days have passed but maybe it's only been minutes. This technique is rather tiring.

Dragging the flames over the Avatar's belly to rest on his chest, the Sun Warrior can feel the thread between Jinhai's physical body and wherever his spirit has gone. If he closes his eyes, he can almost see it—glowing softly, warm like a summer's day sun. The bond only grows stronger the longer that Jinhai remains unconscious.

But then there's something there. A strong, heavy tug and Ahote feels his fire splutter as icy fingers trail down his spine. The bond between Jinhai's body and spirit pulls taught, groaning under the force.

Panic rises in his gut and Ahote lunges for the bond, tries to grab it and heal it before it breaks, but whatever has grabbed hold of it is faster and stronger and feral as it sinks its teeth in and pulls.

With one final tug, the bond snaps. The sound echoes in Ahote's ears like the crack of a whip and his mouth fills with the taste of ice and metal and blood.

Ahote falls back onto his heels. His breath comes in heavy pants while his pulse thrums behind his ears, a dull roar followed by a high-pitched ring. He's been evicted from Jinhai's chi paths, the tether between them broken.

It takes him a moment to orient himself after being thrown so violently from the Avatar's body. When he does, he opens his eyes. Jinhai still lies on the floor. The earthbender's eyes are closed and his chest rises and falls softly. Ahote scrambles forward, fear burning his blood.

He summons fire and flushes it through Jinhai's chi paths, searching for the signature of his soul. But there's nothing there. Only a pulse and the steady beat of his heart, the pieces that mechanically keep his body alive. Even still, those feel weaker than they should.

Ahote curses as terror—raw, real terror—settles like a heavy weight in his belly.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

Ahote's head whips up. He had forgotten that Mela waited with him. Wrinkles form around her mouth and forehead as she frowns.

"He's… gone."

"What do you mean?" Mela swoops forward, falling to her knees on the other side of Jinhai's body. Her fingers quickly press into the pulse point at his throat. When she finds the soft thrum, she blows out a relieved breath. "He's still alive."

"No, it's not that." Ahote recalls the piercing cold that had come down upon the bond like a guillotine. "I could feel him. I was keeping him steady, tethering him to his body since his connection to his past lives is so weak. But something took hold of him and now he's gone. I can't feel his spirit in his body and the bond is broken."

Mela's face darkens. "He's trapped in the Spirit World?"

Ahote pauses. He desperately wants to say _no_—that Jinhai is only momentarily gone, that he will feel Jinhai's spirit in just a few more moments.

"Yes," he admits. "Something took him. I tried to stop it but… it was so strong."

Mela swears and if Ahote weren't so distraught, he might have thought it was funny. Jinhai would've laughed at the mild-mannered woman saying something so foul. Ahote's eyes flicker to his still body. Wherever he's gone, they need to get him back.

(And not just because he's the Avatar. Against his better judgement, Ahote has bonded with the boy. He's not sure when the shift happened but he hasn't been with Jinhai because of their deal in quite some time.)

"His body isn't going to last long without his spirit," Mela says. Her fingers lace in her lap and the knuckles go white as she grips them tight. "You need a Water Tribe healer. It's the only thing that's going to keep him alive long enough for you to get his spirit back."

Ahote swallows hard. "Sully is a healer but I don't think he's good enough for what you're wanting him to do."

She shakes her head. "No, not him. An old friend of mine." Mela stands, brushing the front of her orange robes, and a muscle in her jaw ticks. A soft breeze rustles through the room as she sucks in a careful breath. "She was raised in the Northern Water Tribe and trained by their healers. She's the best healer I know."

"Can she be trusted?" Ahote asks, frowning. "She won't sell him out? He's vulnerable like this. We have to protect him from the spirits that keep attacking, whatever has ripped his soul into the Spirit World, and the small army of citizens who'd rather live in a world _without_ the Avatar."

"Himiko won't sell him out." Mela's voice hard is like steel. "She was one of Avatar Kei's masters. She will do what she can to help him. And where you're taking him—he'll be safe from dark spirits there. It's a spiritual epicenter. They wouldn't dare attack him there.

"I've handled Dorjee's training. She's stronger now and a quick study. I do not doubt her capability to keep him safe. Sora has been training Hotaru. Your team is much stronger than it was when you first arrived at my temple. You are not alone in his defense, Warrior."

Mela begins to walk, her steps silent as she stalks from the stone chamber. Ahote is quick to follow her, though he hates to leave Jinhai's body unguarded. He spares a glance over his shoulder. He still looks like he has only fallen asleep on the ground, too tired to stay awake for his morning meditation.

"Where is she located?" Ahote asks, falling into step next to the shorter woman. Fire and anxiety build in his belly as his skin itches with the urge to bend.

"The Foggy Swamp."

It's closer than the Northern Water Tribe, he notes. They can be there in two days if they take Dorjee's sky bison.

"Avatar Kei's birthplace." Ahote frowns. "I thought that the tribe there was destroyed during the war. Why is Himiko there?"

"It _was_ destroyed," Mela says. "Azulon's men burned it to the ground and slaughtered her people. There was nothing left. But Kei travelled with Himiko for quite some time and she taught her master a lot about the Foggy Swamp Tribe's traditions and bending styles. When the war ended, not all of the waterbenders wanted to return to the polar tribes. Some of them were born into captivity. The poles were not their home. Himiko and a handful of the survivors took up residence in the swamp and devoted themselves to learning and respecting what the tribe once was. Given that the original tribe immigrated there under similar circumstances, they've done well there. The last time Himiko and I spoke, she said there were sixty members in the tribe and two thirds were benders."

"How does no one know that a group of people live there?"

"How does the world not know your tribe exists, Warrior?" Mela shrugs. "At the center of the swamp, there's a great banyan-grove tree. Kei's tribe called it the First Tree. They said that the tree appeared when the world was created and from it all life originated. That every root, every stem, every living breathing thing on this earth is connected to it. Himiko has never told me the details but she told me that she once prayed to the tree and the tree answered. Since then, the world has turned a blind eye to the tribe's existence."

Mela stops and only then does Ahote realize she has brought him to the courtyard where Sora and Hotaru train. Ahote's heart lodges in his throat. He's going to have to be the one to tell Hotaru that he lost Jinhai. That he failed. Again.

"Tell them and then tell Dorjee and Suluk. I'll send a message ahead to tell Himiko that you are on your way and get some of my people to prepare Yeshe. You need to leave immediately. He needs Himiko _now_. Bodies don't last more than a few days without their spirits."

The airbender begins to leave again and Ahote suddenly feels weak in the knees.

"Mela," he calls out.

She stops and turns to face him. Her mouth is severe. Her gray eyes shine like two silver coins.

"Whatever it is that took him, I've never felt anything like it. Do you know—is it possible to destroy a soul in the Spirit World?"

A shadow crosses her face. "There are forces in the Spirit World beyond our understanding and stories we have long forgotten. I cannot tell you what it is that took him or why dark spirits have hunted him because I do not know. Only Jinhai holds those answers. Pray that his past lives protect him."

**II. **

_Jinhaiiiiiiiiiii_, the voice hisses, slithering through his mind. Though he is without a body, Jinhai feels the phantom stutter of his heart hammering in his chest. _Jinhaiiii. Oh, how I've waited for you, Jinhai._

"Kurozuka," he whispers. His knees sink into the ground, like he is kneeling in dirt that is soft the day after a storm. He can hardly see the world around him and nothing has any real shape; he is surrounded by an impermeable night, a heavy darkness that presses in at his shoulders and sides.

Jinhai draws in a deep breath, expecting the scent of damp earth to follow but he tastes blood instead, coppery and sour.

Carrion. Rot. Burnt flesh.

The taste of it blooms in his mouth.

Nausea roils deep within his gut.

Something hisses in the shadows. Like a creature slinking in from the edge of the forest into the light of a waning campfire, he sees his first look at the demon—a true _yokai._

In Aumanil's memories, she was strikingly, painfully beautiful; she was beautiful the way that the barren tundras of the poles are with glittering ice and black stone.

Here, she is anything but. Her face is terrifyingly gaunt with sickly pale skin suctioned to the high, sharp angles of her cheekbones. Kurozuka's mouth is curled into a snarl, revealing rows of yellow teeth that are sharpened to a deadly point. Her eyes, once a beautiful midnight blue, have turned black and consumed the entirety of her eye. Her body is thin, wiry with a terrifying, unnatural strength, and her nails are black and long, almost talon-like.

Kurozuka shuffles into the small halo of light. Jinhai sucks in a breath.

Her mouth twitches and she bares her teeth. The tips are stained dark.

"Yes," she says and Jinhai hears her true voice, not a voice whispered to his mind or spoken from the dark, for the first time. Her mouth moves like it's no longer made for words. "This is what my sister did to me. I sacrificed everything to save our sister and her child and this is how she repaid me."

Jinhai swallows and his fingers curl into the ground below him. "You killed and _ate_ your father."

"In pursuit of something greater." She slinks closer until she is only inches away. He can smell her breath here and the smell of something rotten grows stronger. "Have you not done the same?" Then she whispers to his mind—_Have you not done terrible things in the name of the one you love? Have you not done unforgivable things in Hotaru's name?_ "Tell me, Avatar, what makes you any better than me?"

Jinhai grinds his teeth. "I, for one, have never eaten a human being. And I haven't killed children. I haven't killed _anyone_."

Kurozuka grins and something oily dribbles from the corner of her mouth. _Blood_. She rests one taloned hand on his face and caresses his cheek.

"But you will. My sister did. She killed her own flesh and blood after she cursed me for doing the same. If I let you, you'd spill seas of blood in your lifetime." Kurozuka leans closer and Jinhai goes stone stiff as she drags her tongue from the corner of his jaw to his temple. "But I won't let you. I'm going to stop the war that Raava has ravaged on the physical world. Vaatu and I will restore the world to its natural order, the way it was before Raava corrupted it."

Jinhai recoils, horror dawning across his features. "What are you _talking_ about?"

"Oh, I know how sneaky Raava was. Vaatu told me the truth of it. She betrayed him and tricked that mortal Wan into bonding with her." Kurozuka tilts her head like a predator studying its prey and ran her tongue over her bottom lip. "It's her fault that the world is in chaos. Before she claimed the title of Avatar, the world was peaceful. Vaatu wishes to restore order. He has asked me to be his vessel while he remains trapped in the Tree of Time. He has given me one order and it is one I think I will thoroughly enjoy."

"And what is that?"

Kurozuka grins, her mouth widening like a snake unhinging its jaw. Jinhai turns his face as she leans in, her breath hot and rancid on his cheek.

_Devour your soul. _

**III.**

Mela wastes no time. Monks and nuns pack Dorjee's bison, Yeshe, with more provisions than they will need for a two-day journey. Yeshe groans as the airbenders move around her in short gusts of wind, hopping from her saddle to the ground and back again as they load her up.

Hotaru hasn't left Jinhai's side. Since Ahote delivered the news that something had gone terribly wrong, she'd gone to him and placed his head in her lap. She laced her fingers in his and hadn't moved since.

Dorjee can't help the shake in her hands. She is not sure if it is fear or anger but something courses through her, something loud and hideous. It demands retribution.

Ahote comes up behind her and places a hand on her shoulder. She doesn't jump. She recognizes the heat in his touch. It's something she's begun to look to as a source of comfort.

"Mela says we're just about ready to leave," he murmurs, then pauses. Dorjee balls her fists as that emotion rages in her. "Are you alright?"

She shakes her head slowly. "There's always something—something hurting me, hurting the people I care for. When does it stop?"

Dorjee feels his body still next to her. When she turns to him, she finds that his golden eyes are on her and they are intent as they search her face. "I don't know," he says, and it sounds like an apology. Then he follows with one and she understands why. "I failed him in Makapu. I allowed him to be injured. And I failed him here. I allowed whatever it was that took him to rip him away. I apologize, Dorjee, for breaking my promise to protect him."

"You didn't make any vows," she says with a small shake of her head. "You made a deal. He restores you as chief of your tribe and you train him in firebending."

"That's where you're wrong. I made a vow to myself when I realized he was more to me than a means to an end, when I realized he was becoming my brother. I vowed I would keep him safe—that I would keep all of you safe."

Dorjee reaches down. She's not sure what drives her to do it but she grips his hand tightly and squeezes. He seems shocked that she's done it; she tries not to smile at the way his lips have parted slightly in his surprise or the slight raise of eyebrows.

"Well, here's my vow—we'll bring Jinhai back from wherever he's gone and then come back here to finish our training. I'll get my tattoos. It'll hurt. I'll cry. But it'll be okay. They'll have been worth it. Sully can teach him how to waterbend and we'll travel and we'll make a difference. But most of all, we'll all be happy. We'll be safe. I'll make sure of it."

Ahote makes a noise low in the back of his throat. His eyes burn into her. "That's a pretty big vow. Are you up to it?"

She fixes him with her gaze and that fear and righteous anger simmers in her belly. "I know. And I mean every word. I don't care what it takes. We're going to be alright. We have to."

**IV.**

For a bison unaccustomed to long travels, Yeshe supports them better than Sora thought she would. They make it all the way to the main continent and then a little further by the time they stop for rest on the first night. Sora gives her carrots as a reward and she thinks this makes the airbender girl like her just a little bit more.

Sora smiles at her from across a fire as she feeds Yeshe. Dorjee only inclines her head. Of everyone in this group, Dorjee is the one she is least close with but they share a mutual respect—they are two sides of the rusted coin, working towards the same goal.

(Taken from their homes. Sold like brood mares. Twisted into something docile and controlled that soothes the worries of the lesser men. They've both lost something they can never get back. Sora thinks Dorjee is stronger for it but she's not so sure about herself.)

They all sleep fitfully that night. Jinhai's heartbeat has slowed. Sully does what he can with healing but he's no master and the body can only last so long without its soul. They wake early the next day, just when the sun begins to crawl up over the horizon. Sora plots out their schedule for the day.

On the second day, though, they can tell Yeshe is tired. She flies lower to the ground. When they reach a large ravine, she doesn't have the strength to go any higher, so they fly through it. Water rushes hundreds of feet below them, a dull roar that thrums in her ears.

Hotaru is propped up at the back of the saddle with Jinhai's head laid across her lap. Her fingers dance across his forehead, twirling and untwirling curls around her fingers. A permanent frown has made itself a home on her face. She hasn't said a word since they left the temple.

Sora wishes she knew how to help but she feels terribly useless. She's a soldier, excellent at taking orders and even giving them when the situation asks for it. But military training doesn't teach you how to comfort your worried friend. It doesn't teach you _anything_ useful when it comes to being a good friend. She takes a page out of her mother's book and makes sure that Hotaru eats at every meal. She's not sure what else she can do.

Dorjee sits at the head of the bison, a rein made of hemp clutched in her hands. Ahote sits behind her, about as close as he can go without impeding. Suluk leans over the saddle to watch the water rush below him. Not for the first time, Sora wonders what it must be like to be so intimately connected with their world.

"How much longer do you think it'll be until we reach the swamp?" Sully asks her.

"Ten more hours or so. We're two thirds of the way there."

Sully nods and returns to peering at the water. Sora sighs and laces her fingers behind her head as she stares up. It is a beautiful day. High above them, the sun is shining and even down within the narrow walls of the ravine, light glitters off the rock and greenery snaking up its sides. Hotaru is humming a soft tune and, somewhere nearby, a hawk cries. A moment passes. The hawk cries again.

Sora perks up, lifting herself up on her elbows, and peers back down the ravine the way they've just come. A frown tugs at her lips. "Did you hear that?"

Sully frowns as he follows her gaze. "No. What are you talking about?"

"There's something nearby. Something that keeps…"

Sora's words drop off. She can't finish as her words catch in her throat.

Sully looks up at her strangely before following her gaze.

"Oh, sweet Yangchen," he swears and barrels into a standing position.

"What is it—"

Because a wall of writhing, slithering, hissing creatures has rounded the corner of the ravine. Green and yellow and purple, they surge forward.

A voice emerges among them, a growl that seizes Sora's spine.

_Give me the boy give me the boy GIVE ME THE BOY—_

The spirits surge forward and Ahote is the first of them to strike. He pushes forward with a punch he brings over his left forearm. Fire billows forward and the spirits shriek.

It doesn't not stop them.

Sora brings her blades out from behind her back. She usually relies on chi blocking but something tells her that it won't be adequate against the winged mass of horrific creatures surging forward. She brings her katana forward in an arc that slices through a spirit that swoops down to seize Jinhai's body.

Sully brings the water out of its skin and forms something close to an octopus but the confined space of the saddle makes it difficult for any of them to fight properly.

Dorjee cracks the reins at Yeshe's head and the bison groans.

Hotaru has covered Jinhai's body with her own. In such a small space, Sora is grateful she hasn't taken the opportunity to bend. Her restraint is still weak at best, even if the strength of her bending is something Sora has never seen before.

A spirit dives forward and Sora doesn't have time to even think before it embeds his talons into Ahote's shoulder.

Ahote yells and grips the spirit with a flaming hand. The spirit shrieks and twists and pulls away, its leathery wings beating furiously.

The Sun Warrior stumbles, one hand still clutching the spirit while the other grasps at his shoulder wound.

Hotaru screams as Ahote falls over the edge of the saddle, the winged spirit falling with him. A falling, shooting star as he pluments in a mass of flame.

Adrenaline buzzes through Sora's body. Her fists ache where they grip her blade too tightly. She barely registers Dorjee's words—_take the reins_—before the airbender leaps from the bison to follow Ahote down.

**V.**

The wind is not a whistle in her ears, a soft whisper, or a gentle song. It's a howl, a scream, a sound so ferocious and deep that it pierces her body and digs itself into her bones.

She can see Ahote below her. He's falling, falling, _falling_, his body spread with his head tilted back as he free falls toward the violent waters below.

Dorjee tucks her arms to her side and bends the air around her so that she rockets down until she's close enough to wrap her hand around Ahote's wrist. Her fingers dig in hard enough that he'll bruise but she doesn't care. She puts herself underneath him, presses both of her hands to each side of his face. Ahote's eyes are closed, his dark eyelashes pressed firmly against the tops of his cheeks. Her breath comes in quick pants as she realizes he's completely unconscious, completely incapable of using fire to slow their descent.

She is alone.

Dorjee swears and twists them so that her back is to his chest. Her hands go to his hips as she tries to gain purchase of his body and hold him tightly enough that he doesn't slip from her grasp.

Her hair slices her face and her eyes burn as the wind tears at her, a violent creature hellbent on ripping her apart. A sob builds in her chest but that wicked thing she'd felt at the temple—the fear and the rage blended—has returned and she can feel it whispering at her ear.

She remembers Mela's teachings. _You do not control the wind. You barter with it. You coax it, ease it. You are not its master._

The wicked thing does not like this, does not like being held at the mercy of someone else.

They have spent a lifetime wheedling and begging and bartering, a lifetime putting her safety in the hands of something determined to hurt her.

They will not bend. _She _will not bend.

Pain bursts deep in her chest as she rips into the air around her, digs in claws and teeth and talons and shouts that _it will take her order_. She can taste its anger, its fury that she _dares_ command it. She can feel as it lashes out at her with barbed whips that shred her soul.

Air splutters at her feet as she pushes down and her arms feel like they're splintering as she struggles against the weight of the world around her. The water below grows closer and closer, so close she cannot tell the difference between the howl of the wind and the roar of the waters below.

The wind screams at her and she grips it and pushes it into place. _I am your master. I am your master. I am your master I am your master I am your master. I am your master and you will obey me. _

The pain in her body grows so great that Dorjee cannot contain her own scream as she battles with the wind. It rips itself from her throat, burns at her eyes, aches in every inch of her body, and pulls at her fingernails as she digs them into her palms.

It wriggles and writhes under her control. She can feel its panic as she sinks in her teeth, locks them into place like a ferocious beast. And she feels when it gives way, when it becomes pliable and soft in her hands like unmolded clay.

Dorjee squeezes her eyes shut, her scream shattering out of her throat. The world around her explodes.

**VI. **

Sora snatches Ahote's wrist and Sully grabs Dorjee's at the waist; together, they pull them into the bison's saddle and Yeshe moans as her feet brush the water below before she soars higher.

The spirits are still rushing at them, a wall of writhing black and purple limbs that screech and hiss. Yellow eyes peer at them from within the mass and Hotaru's heart jackhammers against her ribs.

_We can't outrun them._

Hotaru turns to Sora. "How are they? Are they alright?"

Sora's fingers press at Dorjee's throat. "She's alive. Unconscious. We need to wrap Ahote's wound. He's bleeding badly."

Sully shucks of his tunic and throws it to Sora. "Make a strips long enough for bandages and maybe a tourniquet. I don't know how well I'll be able to stop the bleeding. It's deep."

With a flick of his wrist, Suluk uncaps his waterskins and the water glows around his hands as he presses them to the gashes in Ahote's side.

Hotaru pulls Dorjee away and lays her next to Jinhai. The both of them are deathly still, though for different reasons, and her throat swells as she takes in the sight of her family.

Two unconscious. One injured. Three left standing.

_We aren't going to outrun them. What would Jinhai do?_

Hotaru stands at the back of the saddle as Yeshe barrels through the ravine, dodging the ragged edges and navigating the narrowing passage.

She lifts her arms and her fingers twitch as she takes hold of the earth around her. Her chi bursts from her, eager to find a home outside her body.

"What are you doing?" Sora shouts over the wind. "Sit down. You're going to fall."

Hotaru shakes her head. This is something she has to do. She has to stop them. She won't let them hurt her family.

Her fingers curl, curl in until she's gripping the walls of ravine around her in an ironclad grasp. She feels a wetness on her nose, feels it drip over her upper lip and down her chin. Her jaw locks. Her ears ring.

Hotaru drags her arms in, shaking under the strain as she pulls that earth forward.

The spirits scream as the walls of the ravine crack and tumble and groan.

She vaguely hears Sora swear behind her and feels Sully's arm wrap around her waist and pull her to the bottom of the saddle as the bison tilts skyward in a near vertical ascent. He lays on top of her, his chest pressed into her side as he holds her, Dorjee, Ahote, and Jinhai in place with his body and a frozen band of water.

They soar into the open blue skies like an arrow and Hotaru feels as her control on the earth slips. But the damage is done, a catalyst that cannot be stopped.

Behind them, the ravine crumbles.

The spirits do not follow.

**VII.**

Kurozuka is relentless in her pursuit.

After she shared her intents to eat his soul, to swallow the damn thing whole, Jinhai had pushed himself up and rocketed into the writhing dark.

He can't see where he's going but he doesn't much care. Anywhere is better than by the witch's side.

A true _yokai_. Hotaru has warned him of them. Not just a spirit, who were neither light nor dark, but a soul that had once been human and corrupted beyond repair. It was _yokai_ that she thought haunted the forests around Xianghao and she'd been close to the truth.

A howl echoes behind him and Jinhai stumbles before righting himself and continuing on.

She's called her creatures, then—the dark lupine beings Jinhai is beginning to question the origin of. Are they truly spirits or something more? Jinhai only knows that they are Kurozuka's monsters—wholly and entirely hers; there wasn't a single bit of lore on them in Mela's library—and death and disappearances follow wherever they travel.

An answer wriggles at the back of his mind but he's too scared and too frantic to consider it.

Jinhai's bare foot snags on a root and he is sent sprawling. His arms catch him and his palms bark in pain upon impact.

Fear tells him to get up and keep running. But when a hot breath blooms across his neck, he stills.

The beast remains there, it's teeth inches from his neck, until Kurozuka calls it to heel with a click of her tongue.

"You cannot run from me here, Avatar. There is nowhere you can hide that I do not know of."

Jinhai clenches his teeth.

Sharp nails clamp around his neck. An invisible vice locks his phantom limbs in place. Suddenly, he feels so very cold.

"I will devour you, one way or another. Yield to me now and I will make it painless."

He does not answer.

Those nails snake around his jaw and tilt it up. He's looking at her, inches away from her stained teeth, and at this distance he can see starbursts of broken blood vessels in her cheeks, her neck, her chest. They're mottled and blackened and Jinhai realizes—_she's dying. She hasn't fed. _

"_Yield," _she hisses and her nails break the skin on his jaw. He feels the blood drip down his neck and it only steels his resolve as he meets her dark gaze.

"No."

Her jaw clicks. Her nails dig into his skin. The vice around his body wraps in tighter and the ice in him grows colder.

"Then I will relish in making this as painful as possible."

And then Kurozuka lowers her mouth to his own.

**VIII.**

Eventually, they reach the Foggy Swamp.

They have all seen better days.

Ahote has stopped bleeding but even several hours later he has not regained consciousness. Neither has Dorjee, whose pulse is a faint flutter underneath the thin skin of her wrist. Hotaru is exhausted in ways she cannot explain; for the first time in her life, energy doesn't bubble under her skin.

But even for all of their injuries, they are not the one that Sully lifts from Yeshe's saddle and carries into the village in a dead sprint. They are not the ones who now stand at the precipice of Death's door.

Jinhai has taken a turn for the worse.

His pulse cannot be found without Suluk's bending. His tan skin has turned gray and his fingers and lips are ice cold.

Jinhai is dying. Himiko is the only one who can preserve his body. Even still—what is a body without its soul?

A woman waits for them in the village square.

Her skin is dark—darker than Jinhai, darker than Sully—and her long hair is white and braided back severely. Her posture is slumped with age but there's still undeniable power in the way she holds herself.

"Himiko?" asks Suluk in a breathless huff. He clutches Jinhai's frail frame to his chest.

The old woman—who has lived through four Avatars, two genocides, and a world war—nods her head. She doesn't speak but Suluk remembers what he'd been told; her tongue was cut out by the Fire Nation after she was captured and interrogated.

Himiko moves more quickly than Suluk would have thought possible. He leaves the others behind; there are other healers, other villagers, who can care for their lesser injuries.

The waterbender weaves through trees and vines, knee deep water covered in lily pads and moss. Jinhai grows colder in his arms with each second that passes.

Himiko pulls back a wall of vines that hang from a twisted branch. Suluk steps through the hole and his breath catches in his throat.

Towering far, far above him is the largest tree he has ever seen in his entire life. The branches that spiral from its trunk are massive, living creatures in their own right. The size of the leaves that hang from the bows are enough to blot out the late afternoon sun.

The great banyan-grove tree. The tree that Avatar Kei worshiped, that had protected her in her childhood and survived the Fire Nation's attack. The tree that would now save Jinhai's life.

Himiko leads him to a small pool of water, framed by the curling roots of the banyan-grove tree.

She points, gestures for him to place him in the water, and Sully can't move fast enough to follow her request.

Jinhai hovers in the pool, his dark hair turning black in the water. The purple stain of exhaustion under his eyes looks so stark next to the thriving life of the swamp around him.

Himiko raises her hands and the water follows, glowing a bright, pure blue that Suluk is familiar with. Life bleeds into his gray skin and a flush returns to his sunken cheeks. It's only taken three days for the life to have been sucked from the very marrow of Jinhai's bones.

Himiko hisses when her water snags on empty reservoirs and rotting pools of chi. She doesn't let it stop her.

And so Suluk watches as Himiko, ancient and strong and wise like the tree, brings the Avatar back from death.

**IX.**

The witch's mouth on his own is like ice. There is nothing soft or yielding about Kurozuka's mouth, nothing feminine or human about her lips as they slant over his.

He can feel her claws digging through his mind. She's searching through something, and he's _trying_—trying to resist the control she's taken over his body and mind.

Jinhai worms and twists and riots. But none of it is strong enough and slowly, _slowly_, he begins to sink into her grasp. He begins to welcome it. And when the witch pulls back, he does not see the rotting woman from before.

He sees midnight eyes and shining black hair and ruby red lips.

_She's sucking the life from me. Draining me whole. _

Kurozuka smiles at him. He knows she likes what she sees as she grabs his hair and pulls his face back to look at her. He can hardly focus his eyes. He is so very tired, so very cold. He can hardly remember his own name.

"Avatar," she croons, dragging her tongue along her bottom lip, "what a lovely soul you have. So lonely. So afraid. What a life of suffering you have led."

_Avatar. I am... the Avatar. _

And some deep, ancient part of him calls out to that title. For what, he is not sure. But he calls out—and feels something answer in kind.

Kurozuka leans to place her mouth over his again, to devour what scraps remains of his dirty soul.

But the hard planes of her mouth never come. And then the talons are being removed from his neck and hair. Jinhai slumps forward, shaking and tremouring.

A shriek echoes through the empty world Kurozuka has taken him to.

When Jinhai looks up, he sees two figures—blurry as he comes back to his senses.

Finally, he focuses.

The Conqueror is holding Kurozuka by her hair, one hand tightly laced in the black locks, while the other is planted between her shoulder blades, shoving her forward. Kei's face is twisted into a terrifying, primal snarl, her white paint accenting the sharp lines of her face. _You will not touch him, witch._

Kurozuka scrambles to her feet with speed that is inhuman. She scuttles as she moves, a spider spinning a web across its catch. Kei stands between him and Kurozuka, unmovable, unbreakable, a stone pillar in a desert storm.

"You are not strong enough on your own," Kurozuka hisses and bares her teeth. "You cannot protect him alone."

Kei's hands curl at her sides. "I am not alone. And neither is he."

And then her voice deepens as more bodies flicker into existence next to her. The depth of her young voice broadens and echoes and divides itself until it is a thousand voices all at once. A young boy with arrow tattoos places a hand on Jinhai's shoulder and Jinhai looks up into those familiar gray eyes. Aang smiles, lifts him to his feet with surprising strength, and holds his hand as Jinhai's past lives arrive to shelter him from Kurozuka's wrath.

"You can try and take him, Kurozuka," Kei continues and the challenge she poses is as clear as day. "But you will first have to destroy a very long, very powerful line of Avatars who came before him."

**X.**

Himiko spends the rest of the day and a full night in the swamp healing the Avatar.

(Suluk remains by his side until Himiko shoos him away. He tells her that someone needs to protect him and the others are all far too injured or exhausted to be up to the task. She tells him in not so many words that she's insulted he thinks her incapable of protecting the Avatar. The woman is old enough and scary enough that he doesn't question her twice.)

In the village, the rest of their group is quickly attended to. Minor injuries are treated with traditional swamp healing methods and major ones are attended to by some of Himiko's more talented students.

When they are all patched up and conscious, they eat around a small fire and nervously wait for news. _Dead or alive? Alive or dead? Or something not-quite-either?_

"We need to figure out how to bring him back," Hotaru says quietly, her arms curled around her knees. "I don't think he can come back on his own."

Ahote nods. Dorjee sits a foot to the right of him. (They still haven't discussed what it means for her to have so blatantly risked her life for the chance to save him; there had been no hesitation, no consideration that she was half-trained and that she might have been throwing herself to die.)

"He didn't just slip into the Spirit World and get lost there. Something took him. It's draining his life force more quickly than we anticipated it to as well. We need to get him back in his body before even Himiko isn't strong enough to keep him alive," Ahote says. His focus is half on a drawing he's making in the dirt with the sharp end of a stick. It's a demon with curling horns and a pointed tail.

"How do we do that?" Dorjee asks.

"We'll have to meditate in after him," Ahote says. "It won't be easy, if it's even possible. The people of my tribe spend years trying to master their spirituality. As far as I know, none of us are hiding any innate spiritual gifts. I was able to get Jinhai through with the technique because he already had a foundation. I don't know how to get someone else there."

Suluk clears his throat. "I may be able to help with that." All eyes flicker to the waterbender and he has enough humility to look embarrassed. "We really haven't had time to talk. It's all been so crazy. Ahote knows that my parents were uprooted because of the war, but my father… he was royalty in the Northern Water Tribe. A prince, actually. Third in line."

Hotaru blinks hard a few times. "So you mean to tell us that we not only have the chief of the Sun Warrior Tribe but a potential heir to the Northern Water Tribe in our numbers?"

Suluk scratches the back of his neck. "I don't think I have any real claim. My father's family thought he was dead when he never returned from the prisons. The truth was—he'd met my mother, fell in love, and had no interest in being told he couldn't marry her because she was a nobody from the Southern Tribe. That's beside the point, though. Even without the claim, I do come from a bloodline of waterbenders who have always naturally excelled at the spirit side of things. I've never tried to meditate into the Spirit World or get in contact with spirits but I think with Ahote's help… I definitely could."

It is quiet for a moment. They all know that sending Suluk to the Spirit World to find Jinhai is dangerous. Something sinister lurks there, something that not even an Avatar can fight off. But they don't have a choice. And so the decision is already made.

"Then in the morning," Ahote says, "when my bending is strongest. I will guide you where you need to go, Suluk."

**XI.**

The dawn comes all too soon.

"Are you ready?" the warrior asks and balls his hands so that the waterbender cannot see the tremble in his fingers.

Suluk blows out a heavy breath and closes his eyes. Jinhai lies next to him in the water, only a few feet away. He looks to Himiko, who stands behind his new comrades, and finds strength in the unwavering depths of her blue eyes, an understanding that words cannot explain. "As ready as I'll ever be."

**XII.**

The Avatars do a fine job warding off Kurozuka. Her rage is something that turns real and terrible, a black cloud that swarms the air around Jinhai, prodding for gaps in the protection his past lives provide him.

He can hear her shrieks, infuriated and horrible. Aang only holds his hand tighter.

He's not sure how long they stay like that in the dark. The bodies of his past lives' press in around him. He spots Kyoshi's gold headpiece and the pointed end of Roku's crown. Somewhere, he knows that Aumanil stands to protect him but he isn't sure where she hides; he thinks that if it were his sister threatened to destroy the world, he might hide, too.

And then something new comes and Kurozuka's rage quiets. The witch disappears.

A flash of light and through the mass of past Avatars, he sees him. He hates how scared he feels in that moment.

"Suluk, you need to go," he shouts, his heart hammering in his chest. "You can't be here."

"I came to get you," Sully insists. "You're dying out in the real world. You need to come back now."

"You need to go," he says, pushing through the throng of Avatars until he is standing feet away from the waterbender. "It's not safe."

The hairs on the back of Jinhai's neck stand on end and the fear that sweeps through him tastes rotten in his mouth.

"_Go_," Jinhai says.

Suluk shakes his head, still reaches out his hand.

_She's coming. She's coming. She's here. _

Kurozuka winks into existence behind Suluk's spirit. She looks like a devil, a demon, something wicked and terrible as she stares at him with those wholly-black eyes.

Jinhai reaches for Sully—to protect him, to move him, to save his friend from the witch who's held his soul captive.

"Fine," Kurozuka hisses, her body trembling with rage. She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand ferociously. "If you will not give me your body, I will take _his_."

And then she latches onto Suluk, gripping the back of his neck with her glittering black talons, and Jinhai watches as she sinks her teeth into the base of his neck—and swallows Suluk's soul whole.

**XIII.**

Jinhai jolts forward with a sharp gasp and suddenly there are hands on his body, pushing him back down. _Where is he where is he where is he?_

"Jinhai! Calm down! Calm down; you're alright!"

The Avatar shakes his head. _Where is he? Where is Suluk?_

His fingers curl around a forearm. He's frantic as he looks around the small clearing, the lower half of his body submerged in water.

"Where is he?" he rasps. "Where is Sully?"

"He's right here," the voice says again, low and soothing. It's Hotaru's voice, he realizes. Of course it's her voice. She's always there to care for him.

Jinhai follows Hotaru's pointing hand and to the waterbender several feet away. Eyes glare back at him, midnight blue, but it is not Sully who looks at him. Horror spoils in Jinhai's gut.

He reaches for earth before he can think twice and hurls it at Suluk's body and screams.

"You bitch! Bring him back!" he bellows. "_Bring him back!"_

Hotaru is scrambling for his arms again. He knows she's confused. He knows she doesn't understand. "Jinhai, stop it!" she screams.

Sully, who is not Sully, grins. "I cannot, Avatar."

Hotaru and Ahote and Dorjee and an old woman he does not recognize, all who were desperately attempting to stop his assault, freeze.

"Bring him back," he whispers and his eyes burn. _My fault. All my fault. Bring him back. _

"I cannot," they repeat and he sees Kurozuka's spirit in the cold, ferociousness hidden within the grin that splits Suluk's face. "I will not, until you forfeit Raava to me. You have three days. Three days to organize your affairs. On the third day, I will send a crow and when that crow lets loose it's third cry, I will come for everything you love."

* * *

_tbc._


End file.
